X-Men: Resonance
by bluebear77100
Summary: AU following First Class film. Features main cast of film and many OCs fitting this AU. WARNINGS for mature themes including: abuse, swearing, death and violence. High T warning basically so be aware. Story: When we cross paths, our souls intertwine. A deep enough connection can resonate throughout our lives, and sometimes, the future may depend on it.
1. Story Notes and Prologue

STORY NOTES:

AU for the upcoming sequel.

_These are the list of characters that will be included in my story. This can be used as a reference at any time for recollecting names (especially since many characters have more than one name in this universe!) The original characters have been written as imagined in my mind as being played by the following actors/actresses or people with similar appearance to them!-Some characters are listed with no chosen actors/actresses._

Characters:

**Professor X, his students/X-Men:**

Charles Xavier_Professor Xavier_Professor X_X (Played by James McAvoy)

Hank McCoy_Beast (Played by Nicholas Hoult)

Alex Summers_Havok (Played by Lucas Till)

Sean Cassidy_Banshee (Played by Caleb Landry Jones)

Sarah Winters_Prophet

Aki_Hikou

Tom Granger_Regen

**Magneto, The Brotherhood:**

Erik Lehnsherr_Magneto (Played by Michael Fassbender)

Raven Darkholme_Mystique (Played by Jennifer Lawrence)

Janos Quested_Riptide (Played by Alex Gonzalez)

Azazel (Played by Jason Flemyng)

Angel Salvadore (Played by Zoe Kravitz)

Emma Frost (Played by January Jones)

Monica

Damien

*More unnamed/unlisted*

**The Future Ones:**

Charles Xavier_Professor Xavier (X) (Played by Patrick Stewart)

Erik Lehnsherr_Magneto (Played by Ian McKellan)

James Logan Howlett_Logan_Wolverine (Played by Hugh Jackman)

Katherine Anne "Kitty" Pryde_Shadowcat (Played by Ellen Page)

Ororo Munroe_Storm (Played by Halle Berry)

Robert "Bobby" Drake_Iceman (Played by Shawn Ashmore)

Brian_Anomaly (Played by Alexander Ludwig)

Bree_Apocalypse (Played by Chloe Grace Moretz)

**Marcus, The Reapers:**

Marcus Smith_Shield (Played by Tom Hiddleston)

Joseph Novak_Granite (Played by Cam Gigandet)

Melissa_Blink (Played by Emma Stone)

Amy Benson_Truth (Played by Marion Cotillard)

Jeremy Tallick_Nightmare (Played by Ian Somerhalder)

**NSA Agents, mutant recruits:**

Agent Adam Adams (Played by Titus Welliver)

Agent Jones

Agent Carter

Agent Shepard

Agent Freeley

Anya_Shiva

Ryan_Surge

Zane_Fenrir

Avram

Greta

Connor

Nicholas

Ria

**Other mutants:**

Klaus Schmidt_Sebastian Shaw (Played by Kevin Bacon)

Moira MacTaggert (Played by Rose Byrne)

**Prologue**

_Barren Plains, Germany, 2023_

Two figures stood over the rocky landscape, their shadows falling beyond them, over hard ground. They were alone. In this world, most were alone. It was easier traveling that way, much more safe. The pair, brother and sister, did not fear for themselves though. They were born and bred to be soldiers, warriors. More prominently, however, they were mutants, class five, extremely powerful and so unconcerned with the threat potentially posed towards them at any one time. Sentinels stood no chance against them if they even managed to locate the elusive siblings. Besides, they were on the side of the mutant-hunting robots and the man-made creations knew it.

Blue eyes flashed toward a running form crossing over the ground below them. The girl's eyes caught the movement. She was quick, small, lean, and beautiful. In contrast, her twin brother was tall, broad and muscular, but certainly handsome himself. They had matching blonde hair and blue eyes. Technically they were at the age of 18, but this world they lived in had aged them rapidly from youth. To survive, it had been essential to master their power and be taught the purpose of their family. It was the family legacy that ruled their entire lives, every decision made for the legacy. They were charged with ensuring the future that was, in this year of 2023, remained. Their family faired very well in this admittedly desolate world, because the entirety of their family was human, except for the latest descendants, twin children. When their powers were discovered, it fell to them to be taught to protect the future that was, and they were ready for anything.

"Brian."

"I see. Mutant, class two. Shall I correct him?"

She considered the option briefly before discarding it. There was an object flying through the dark and cloudy sky just behind the male mutant, closing in fast. There was no sense in correcting an anomaly that would cease to exist in seconds.

"Leave him. A sentinel has already locked on. It's done."

Her brother nodded once and said nothing more. This happened often enough. He looked at her then and she smiled softly at him. She was the only one who called him by his birth name, Brian. Everyone else called him by his mutant name, Anomaly. The name directly coincided with his ability to correct anomalies of any kind. These anomalies included mutated genes, sick or dead cells, and so forth. He was also immune to any mutants' ability and could read it and their presence when in close proximity. It was impressive and he knew it. More than once, he'd expressed his pride in himself, but also, he'd shown how proud he was by her abilities.

Bree was called by her name by only Brian as well, everyone else knew her as Apocalypse. Many blamed her for the future that existed. Everyone feared her. As they should. She was a time-traveler, capable of tearing through the seam of space and time in order to go wherever she so chose at any point in the past or future. She cared little for the past or future, however, finding the present to be a much better use of her time and efforts.

She learned fast to survive. kept herself under strict control, ever calm and present in mind. It was necessity, for she'd learned from an extremely young age when her powers first began to emerge, that her emotions affected the very reality around her. If she became upset, the earth itself would begin to crack and break. She was told by her parents once, that she had nearly caused earthquakes and lightning storms so severe, it could have killed everyone had her tantrum over a silly toy gone on for much longer. Thankfully, she'd become extremely adept at keeping her feelings in check and it was hardly an issue now, though her enemies were always loath to learn of this..condition of hers when it came into play if they knocked her off balance enough. She was not to be messed with, ever.

She turned and walked away, the sound of screaming permeating the silence behind her, the smell of heat also rising from the energy beam firing from the sentinel's palm or eyes. The robot could fire from either, depending on the model. It was irrelevant, of no concern of theirs. The mutant would be dead either way.

Her brother followed after her. It was time for them to leave. They had to maintain the timeline as it was meant to happen. There was a potential threat rising in the past, approximately 50 years in the past, and it was left to them to stop the future from being altered. Some course corrections were possibly in order to ensure this. She and her brother would have to go and see for themselves what might need to be done to ensure their present remained as it was now.

It had been Bree, herself, who picked up on a disturbance in the timeline. The family knew of a high probability individual conceivably responsible for the alteration in time. They'd been given the name of a significant man, an infamous mutant, who was at the epicenter of the various futures at play now, and so it was him she would be looking for. She did some time-traveling to various points, investigating the man and his choices, uncovering he was indeed the constant variable at work. They'd learned what was necessary to complete the mission at hand, even going so far as to travel to an alternate future where she recruited a version of the named man whom she'd then delivered to the past she would soon be arriving again in, put into place as their back up plan. He would be their certainty that the mission succeeded. If the timeline couldn't be kept the same with minimal effort, he would step in to ensure the time he came from occurred, because with that timeline, the past also led to the world she was familiar with now, only happening more quickly.

No one was to alter their present. The family legacy was explicit the timeline be maintained and protected. They'd been preparing to use their training their entire life. This world was all they knew and so brother and sister readily accepted the task laid out for them. They had work to do.


	2. Haunted

**Chapter One**

**Haunted**

_Dystopian Forbidden City, China, 2023_

"Recently, upon waking, I got a glimpse from the past. I don't know how or why it happened, but it did. Something from the past led to this present. I can see opportunity. Opportunity to change what is by changing what was."

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to do for me, what I once did for you."

Logan focused on the professor, waiting to be told what was to be. As reluctant as he was to admit it, the man was wise and highly intellectual. He always seemed to know what was going on and what should be done when difficulties arose. Wolverine respected Xavier beyond any other. The old man had never done him wrong and spent his life taking in children to help them learn to live in the world. Hard to ever hold anything against a guy like that. Besides, the professor helped him recover some of his past memories when they first met. They'd come a long way since that time and he'd do whatever he could for the man.

"Your mind, we need to send it into your old body, permitting you to travel to the past. 1973 specifically."

He hesitated. "Okay, why that time?"

"A terrible event in that time leads to the present we live in now. If we can change the past, we can prevent this future from ever happening."

Wolverine glanced past the professor in his chair, the man wheeling it a little closer to him as the third person in the room moved forward to stand directly behind Xavier. Magneto looked down at the man in the chair for a long moment, then rested his eyes on Logan.

"We must end this war before it ever begins."

He wasn't in disagreement on that point. It had been a long time since Magneto had been their enemy. There was no room for mutants to disagree with one another or fight when they spent the majority of their time hiding or running from the robots who hunted them day and night. The program that created robots to eliminate mutants had backfired horrifically on the humans who had created them out of fear. Sentinels, as they were called, determined that the most effective manner to defend humanity from mutants would be to rule all of humanity. The decision had evolved into all out war against the sentinels, leaving the world a desolate place, and millions of humans and mutants dead. It was a miserable existence, this world they lived in, and they'd lost many friends and allies over the draining years.

"Find me," the professor continued. "Be patient with me. I was a much different man then. You need to get me to understand, to believe you."

"Never been good with patience."

"You will need me as well." Magneto added, ignoring Logan's words.

Logan glanced from the professor to him. "And where do I find you?"

As Magneto mentioned the darker path he was once on, and the professor went into deeper detail on how exactly Kitty Pryde would use her phasing ability to send his mind into his younger body, he shifted his gaze between the two men now standing side by side. They were a curious pair. For as long as he'd known them, they'd seemed to always be on opposite sides, arguing over the mutant/human issue, both stubborn and certain of their chosen paths. Yet in recent times, the arguing had lessened, the time apart far more uncommon, and Wolverine had observed the close friendship he'd been told about but never witnessed until the more recent years. The two men communicated with their eyes often, sat talking or playing chess for hours during the safe periods whenever they managed to allot them, and seemed content and happy in one another's company. These men were supposed enemies over five decades? Logan was finding the two men to be more and more perplexing the more time he spent with them.

Professor X's head rose, towards the entrance to the room they were occupying.

"Storm is fending off another attack. She will provide the time necessary for Iceman to make it here with our key to sending you to the past."

Wolverine balled his hands into fists, preparing himself for what he knew would be a painful experience in order to send his mind to the past. He had to do this. He was the only one who could survive such a procedure. Logan would need to find a younger Charles Xavier. Find him and convince him into action, with a younger Magneto's help, preventing an event capable of creating the horror of a future they were all living in now. He had important work to do. He was ready.

_Westchester County, New York, 1973_

_"We want the same things."_

_"Oh, my friend. I'm sorry, we do not."_

_Pain shot through his back when his friend released him and let him be held instead by Moira. Tears leaked from his eyes, but not from the physical pain. It was the knowledge he'd lost his friend, by choice. Reading Raven's mind as his dear friend and adopted sister approached moments later, he stared helplessly up at her. He'd lost her, too. How had this happened?_

_"Go with him. It's what you want."_

_She was smiling fondly down at him. He loved her smile, how it always touched her eyes, brightening everything about her. He didn't want to be without her. He didn't want to be without Erik. Everyone had the right to choose their own path, their own life. _

_"You promised you would never read my mind." _

_Raven didn't really seem bothered he'd read her, the smile remained intact, so did the worry for his injured state. It was in his nature to ensure everyone was free to make their own decisions. His heart broke. He had to let her go, too._

_"I promised a great many things I'm afraid."_

_And he had. He'd promised a great many things to many people when he was young, cocky, foolish. He had no illusions about himself any longer. He couldn't help anyone anymore. How could he when he couldn't even help himself? Ten years later and he was pathetic, a shadow of himself trapped in the prison of his own body with his useless lower half. He was so alone. _

_"You are alone."_

_What was that? After the voice broke off, memories of that day on the beach faded, replaced by darkness. It was pitch black now. He couldn't see a thing. _

_"You don't believe in your cause, because it is meaningless."_

_The voice had returned. He looked about himself but it was simply blackness. Tracing the source of the voice proved impossible. _

_"You don't believe in the world, because it wronged you."_

_"Who's there?" he demanded._

_"You no longer believe in yourself, because you have failed anyone who ever trusted you, depended on you, believed in you."_

_"Who is speaking? Show yourself!"_

_Cold laughter was the reply that came. _

_"Forget them. Forget the ones you once called friends. Forget the ones who left you. They don't need you. No one needs you. It's time to find a better purpose. You're better off alone."_

_He couldn't argue there. He'd kept himself primarily isolated for years. Life in a wheelchair had dampened his spirit, losing Erik and Raven had shaken him to the core. _

_"Forget them!" the voice came again, demanding to be heard. "You have yourself and you are all you will ever need."_

_That would be so nice. If only it were true... His mind trailed back to the day on the beach, the offer his good friend had made to him. _

_"I want you by my side."_

_He'd wanted nothing more than to be at Erik's side, too. But not like that. Not when it would mean humans dying senselessly. Not when it meant his friend would do bad things in order to see his work come to fruition. _

_"We fight for the same thing."_

_That had made him laugh sadly in his friend's face. The same thing? They had the same basic goal, to see mutants living freely and without fear or persecution. But Erik would do terrible things to see it happen and he would in turn, persecute humans as he saw fit. It was wrong. Charles could never abide by it. He was a part of this world. He could never do it intentional harm._

_"You see? He stands against you. He thinks you are like him. You are not. You are better, stronger, dangerous."_

_Charles whirled about, searching for the voice, twisting around in that forsaken chair of his. "Show yourself! Who are you? What do you want?"_

_"To help. To show you how much better you can become if you just allow your mind to be free of the burdens you weigh yourself down with."_

_"Is this a dream? Or are you actually in my head? Are you a telepath, too?"_

_The horrible memory of being flooded with agonizing pain to his skull when he'd been holding Sebastian Shaw in place and Erik had killed him, utterly consumed him then. Charles had pleaded with his friend, begged him not to kill Shaw, not to cross that line, not to harm him in the process since he was inside the awful man's mind at the time. God, there was so much pain! He started screaming, clawing at the sides of his head to try to make it stop. _

_As quickly as it came, the pain dissipated, just like the hope he'd once felt, before a fissure was created between him and Erik. His idealism, compassion, goodness...that all just felt so pointless now. Serene and innocent? A thing of the past most likely._

_"Yes. Forget who you were. Embrace who you can become."_

_For the first time, he really listened to the man speaking to him, acknowledging what was being said to him. _

_"Yes. It's time for a new chapter to begin. I need to stop wallowing in self-pity and grief at what is already lost. I need to be someone. I'm meant to do something with my life because I have the capacity to."_

_"You will accomplish great things. Forget those you once spent your days with. You need no one else. You are power, X."_

_"X?" Charles questioned._

_"You are power."_

His eyes opened and he found himself lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling above him. Morning light streamed in through the window at his left, cascading over the blanket resting over him. Vaguely he thought over various images and phrases in his mind, trying to formulate what had been going on in his mind during that very strange dream. He felt like he'd had a similar dream to it before. More than once maybe even. His brain felt confused, memories foggy, and he wasn't sure of anything. Must have been because his brain was still sleepy, unclear. He pushed those thoughts away and sat up, grabbing his legs and maneuvering them over the side of the bed after throwing the blanket off.

He ran a hand through long hair and roughly dragged a hand down the front of his face, feeling the grown beard there. Tired, he was so tired. A glance toward the bedside clock informed him he'd slept for over twelve hours. That was impossible. He felt like he had barely slept even an hour. Sighing, he shifted his gaze over to the wheelchair waiting beside the bed. Another day in his prison.

His mind began to pick up on other thoughts. Alex Summers and Sean Cassidy, AKA Havok and Banshee, were heading down the main staircase. All three young men who'd chosen his side on the beach in Cuba had stayed with him to help him create his school for mutants. Extending his reach outward, he felt Hank McCoy's presence in the lab as usual. Though as one of his "X" men he was known as Beast, the genius and scientist in him won out more often than not. To all three men, the mansion had become their home since the day Charles found each of them and brought them there to embrace their mutant powers.

More minds entered his own. He recognized two more souls just outside the mansion. The first was Sarah Winters or Prophet. She was a young college student barely in her 20's. Brown hair, brown eyes, a class three mutant who experienced premonitions, she was a smart girl. What she was still doing here, he didn't know. As the years continued on, Charles had begun to retreat from the world, and his school fell into disarray.

Hoisting himself into his chair, he sought out the other presence with her, already knowing who it was without seeing with his mind. Aki was a teenage boy who rarely left Sarah's side. He was born and raised in Japan, not speaking much English, and rather shy. Aki was a man with talent though. Despite his youthful appearance and spiky hairstyle, he could influence gravity as he chose. The ability allowed him flight and levitation. It was why he'd been nicknamed Hikou, the Japanese word for flight.

The pair of them were both level three mutants. They were students and X-men of his. At least, they had been. Most of his students had been forced to go back to their old lives when Charles stopped showing up for lessons, stopped planning how to improve their education and training. Over the last five years, he'd lost over thirty students, and only three of his originals remained, along with three who he found a few years later. Those who remained living and struggling to learn mostly on their own now, was Hank, Alex, and Sean, and then Sarah, Hikou, and finally, Tom Granger.

Tom Granger or Regen, was one of his great success stories as Alex liked to call it. He didn't know why the man felt such respect and admiration toward him for taking them in and teaching them how to control their powers. He didn't get why any of them did. It had only been right to help those he saw in need of his help.

Now Tom was called Regen because of his uncanny ability to revitalize and regenerate dead things. In his mid-20's, with sandy hair, green eyes, and a well-built form, the man spent his days enjoying the nature he loved so much. Charles knew he often used the pool outside the mansion to swim. He tanned pretty regularly, a stark contrast to the pale hue Charles had let his own skin become, and he absolutely dedicated much of his time trying to get him to be a professor again, teaching him something new, whatever that might be. It was him who'd shown Regen he could not only revive dying plants, but also he was capable of healing people. He'd only been able to heal fresh cuts or wounds so far, but he was improving steadily. His ability was stronger than he'd known, and he was classified as a class four. Tom was a good man with a not entirely understanding family of his ability. Charles knew how that went all too well and so perhaps it was why Tom did hold a special place in his heart. Then again, each and every one of his students did.

But he wished they'd stop lingering about in his old family home turned school turned to nothing. He had nothing left to offer them. He was a miserable excuse for a professor and he didn't even know what he was doing anymore. He'd given up, they knew it, so why couldn't they let him be and accept it? They were strong and independent, he'd made sure of that before he'd ever lost the ability to keep himself caring and spending time outside of his bedroom.

Charles wheeled himself over to the bathroom and disappeared inside to prepare for the day. Exiting the bathroom, he moved over to the window, all the while keeping outside voices out of his own head. It came mostly natural to him to keep others' thoughts out of his mind, only reading people's thoughts and feelings when he felt he needed to. Lately though, he'd just been so tired and sometimes even managed to forget to put the blockade up in his mind immediately upon waking. Life had not dealt him a fair hand and it drove him to the brink trying to move past the debilitating injury that forever changed him.

Anger surged through him. It had been doing that more and more. He gripped the armrests of his chair tightly, staring out at the sunshine of the outside world he'd come to avoid as often as he could.

_"They'll turn on you."_

He jerked upright in his seat, glancing around before realizing he'd heard the voice in his head.

_"Your own sister abandoned you. The sole person in this world who you made a connection with and cared for deeply, chose his own mission and rage over staying with you. He made you a cripple."_

"That wasn't his fault!" Charles snapped, quickly becoming aware he was talking to himself.

He had to be. He was alone and the voice in his head was his own voice. Come to think of it, the voice he was hearing now sounded a lot like the voice from his dreams of late. He rubbed his temples, two fingers on each side. Maybe it was his telepathy messing with his head, confusing him into thinking someone was talking to him when really, they were only his thoughts.

_"They'll turn on you like he did. They'll leave you, too. You should leave before they can leave you. Make the first move, towards who you are meant to be."_

Charles thought to himself in his head this time, no matter how crazy that sounded. Ten years gone by without making much of himself. Maybe he was going insane.

_"And who am I meant to be?"_

_"Stronger than anyone else. Better as a solitary man. They don't care for you. Forget about them."_

He frowned, the headache worsening. Forget about who? Who was he forgetting about again? His brain felt like dozens of needles were poking into various points of it and coherent thoughts simply weren't formulating for him.

His eyes slammed shut and he willed any and all thoughts in his head to go away. He hunched forward in his chair, fiddling with the dark blue dress shirt and tan pants he wore. He kept his hands occupied clenching at the cloth he couldn't feel against his limp legs, trying to focus on anything but the pounding in his head.

"Just go away. Go away."

The voice in his head did go away, but another filled the void, this one coming from outside him.

"You knew I was coming? Impressive."

Shock would be putting the expression on his face, lightly. He took a moment to turn and see the face staring down at him, partially obscured by the ugly helmet atop his head. For half a decade he'd kept track of the Brotherhood's movements, but he had no contact with his former friends. He hadn't wanted to because it would only make the separation all the more real. In recent times, he paid no attention to many world affairs, preferring to retreat inside his own company instead of anywhere else.

The struggles the world faced in the last ten years had drained him too much for his liking, so he'd kept out of it. Dealing with the losses he personally endured had been enough as is. Erik had been lost to him, giving in to his darker instincts. He hadn't the slightest idea why his old friend had come. What did he want of him? He wasn't welcome here. This opened wounds he was trying to put far behind him.

Erik read the pure shock off of him easily. "Oh, so you didn't know."

A frown creased his forehead. Charles turned away from the scrutinizing gaze now attempting to bore into him. If he didn't know any better, he'd think Erik was trying to read _his _mind.

"How are you, Charles?"

A humorless chuckle escaped him. "Like you care. You're not welcome here. Come to the point or get out. I don't want visitors today."

"The way I hear it, you don't much like visitors of any kind these days."

He was not in the mood for banter or conversation of any sort. His head hurt. He knew his old friend didn't care about him. Why would he come? He must want something. Didn't the other man see he didn't want to be near him? It hurt to be near him.

"Go away."

"Come. Let's play a game of chess."

It wasn't a question. Despite his protests to the contrary, he found himself being wheeled away from the window and over to the sitting area in his room. As soon as the chair came to a stop on one side of the small table there, he shoved Erik's hand off the handlebar and fixed a glare upon him.

"I don't want to play. Tell me why you're here and what you want and we can both move on with our lives."

"You call this living?"

Charles glowered across the table as his former friend took a seat opposite him.

"It's been ten years. If you cared anything for me you would have come to see me after you learned I was paralyzed from the waist down for life."

"I would have, had you wanted to see me."

Those were confident words spoken but he saw the guilt flash across his face, the tightening of his jaw and slight frown coming over him. Apparently his volatile friend did have a soul yet.

Erik gestured for him to make the first move but he did nothing to reach toward the game before him. His eyes stayed on the man hiding from him with that damn helmet on. The helmet meant a lot. It meant he didn't trust Charles not to read his thoughts without permission. There was a tension between them, palpable and uncomfortable. Then the other said something that made his appearance make perfect sense.

"Your students worry for you. They came to see Mystique, concerned for your well-being, for your refusal to cease the rut of nothingness that has become what you call living. When I heard what you've been doing, or rather, what has become of your dream to build a school meant for helping mutants, I came. I know how much you wanted that school. You still do. I know you."

He didn't really hear Erik's words, focusing on the mention of Mystique. He allowed himself this one question. One he'd wanted an answer to for a long time.

"How is she?"

"She's well. Azazel has trained her to defend herself and use stealth tactics. They've warmed to one another very much over the years."

Charles stared down at his hands resting in the lap he couldn't even truly feel. "I'm glad she's happy."

"I didn't say that exactly."

That got his attention. He raised his head up to meet Erik's eyes, waiting for the forthcoming explanation to such a statement.

"She misses you terribly."

"Why didn't she come to see me?"

Erik shifted a little in his seat. He wondered if the man was irked by the fact that he was not welcome in Charles' home, but Raven still was. There were many things he wondered about his past friend.

"She didn't think you'd want to see her. She feels guilty for leaving you bleeding on that beach. She can't be happy, not without her brother."

He shook his head slightly in disagreement. "Raven's a strong person. You'll keep her safe."

Charles leaned forward and moved the first of his pieces forward. He held back the smirk threatening to show on his face when his old friend didn't even bother to hide how pleased he was that the game was now in play.

"You disapprove of my methods." Erik said, moving a piece and then awaiting his next turn.

A pointless comment. He restrained from rolling his eyes, running a hand through the scruff of his face before resting the limb back down to his lap after moving a pawn.

"Of course. Especially when your motto remains the same. Us against them. Really, Erik, you can do better than that."

His opponent shoved one of his own pawn's forward and leaned on his hands.

"The humans never learn. They often solve their own problems with violence. Why shouldn't I do the same in order to put myself in the position to make real advances for mutants everywhere? Us against them is just the reality of things."

"That's just it, Erik. You want to fight against the world. I want to live in it."

Erik grew very serious. Ignoring the game for the moment in order to regard him more closely. "Why don't you live in it anymore?"

He did the exact opposite of putting the game aside. Hunching over in his chair, he stared hard at the board like it required all of his concentration. Charles wasn't interested in being interrogated by a man who never bothered to visit him even once in a decade. Had he been a fool to ever believe Erik could be a better man? He didn't want to think that.

The game went on, continuing in silence. Neither one had improved in skill over the years. Charles suspected the game had not been played by Erik, as it had not been played by himself, all these years. It wasn't until they were nearing the end of the game that the familiarity of it drove him to say what he knew he felt and needed to get out. He didn't know if he'd ever see Erik again after all.

"I forgive you."

Erik continued studying the board, indecisive over his next move, both on and off it. So Charles filled the quiet himself once more.

"I forgive you for killing Shaw, with me still inside his mind. I know the lovely Miss Frost must have told you by now, how that felt for me."

The man across from him stiffened. He moved one of his pieces and Charles could see it took physical effort to meet his gaze this time.

"I am sorry for that. I didn't know. I...I had to kill him. After what he did to me, my mother, Darwin... He was far too dangerous to keep alive." There was hesitation, brief, before he was continuing on. "I'm sorry for what my choices on the beach that day did to you as well. If I'd kept my anger in check like you always told me, you wouldn't be in that chair."

He smiled very slightly at him. "I don't blame you for this chair. I put myself in it. I made choices, too. We all make choices that we have to live with."

"Don't do that."

Charles sighed. "What am I doing that you abhor now?"

Erik ignored the choice in wording in favor of speaking his mind. "You and your forgiving. You forgive far too easily."

"And you don't forgive nearly enough. You should take a lesson from me. Old hatred and fear and pain make you judge the human race far too severely." Narrowed eyes prompted him to add a bit more, to make himself absolutely clear. "Humans suffer, too."

"I know suffering."

The words were said to inform him as if he were speaking to a child. It didn't faze him. It merely meant if he was shortening the man's responses, he was getting to him.

"As do I."

Erik opened his mouth but clamped it shut again when a crack sounded, the smell of sulfur filtering through the air. For not desiring any visitors whatsoever, there sure seemed to be a fair number of them in his bedroom this day. As one, the pair of them looked up from their game to see who'd arrived.

When he first saw the red-skinned man in a slick black suit standing beside the wind-maker known as Riptide, he clenched his fists, uncertain if a threat was being posed towards him. Rapidly he worked his own mind into theirs and found caution, but no thoughts of doing him harm of any kind. He read there was a bit of confusion as to why they were even there as well. Then he felt the presence of a third mind and as the teleporter stepped aside, he saw the gorgeous woman, skin a deep shade of blue, who stood just behind the men.

"Raven," he breathed out softly.

She'd grown since he'd last seen her. Instinctively, he averted his gaze a bit at the sight of her naked form. It was unnerving to see his sister so exposed.

As soon as she set her eyes on him, she was running. He startled as she threw herself into his lap and hugged him fiercely. Then, as though coming back to herself, she leapt off him and glanced down at his lap.

"I'm sorry! Can I do that? Does it hurt if I do that?"

He managed a weak smile through his teeth at her. "Nope. I feel nothing at all below the waist."

Her face fell, guilt, sadness, and concern filtered visibly across every fiber of her naked form. He focused on her face and knew he was the one with the power to make her feel better.

"I still feel here though," he told her, placing his palm over his heart.

Immediately she glowed with renewed happiness. Happiness dampened by Erik's decision to continue their conversation despite some of his people's unexpected arrival.

"This is what I'm getting at. You always believe everyone has some good in them. You believe simply by having good intentions, your actions are right, and good will be a result. Some of the worst things in history occurred with the best intentions in mind. I would know."

Charles forced himself to tear his eyes from the beautiful woman in order to glance at the board for his next turn, then waited and looked up at his opponent.

"You are to be the one to lecture me on good intentions?"

"You are naive!"

Raven was looking between them as they had their little debate, puzzled and uncertain of what she'd walked in on. Perhaps she thought like him, remembering vaguely of a time when they'd all been together and happy. That was a long time ago.

"Those best intentions of mine saved your life!" Charles reminded, annoyed he even had to do so. "You would be dead now had I not pulled you from the water the night we met."

Erik fell silent for a moment, then responded after sighing in exasperation. "And I haven't forgotten that. How could I?"

He looked over the man's face. His old friend looked tired himself. His team of mutants not producing the results he was hoping for? Charles knew then, that the other man had come with a reason. He glanced in the direction of the silently waiting trio of Erik's, no, Magneto's Brotherhood, Raven standing in the space between the two sets of men uncertainly, waiting to see what there was to see.

"What would you have me do?" Charles finally asked.

"You brought it up yourself so we'll go from there. The night you pulled me from the water, we were meant to find each other, Charles. I've never stopped believing that and I would still have you by my side."

"Your mission is misguided. You think us better than humans."

"We _are_ better."

"What makes us better? We can be hurt or killed, we cry and love, experience loss, pain, joy... We are both. We are human and mutant. We are the same."

He sensed before he saw Raven's smile. "You always did manage to be profound, Charles."

Erik did not seem to agree. He glanced at the board, saw Charles had yet to take his turn, then returned his attention to him.

"You idealize the world to one day be better, mutants and humans living in harmony, neither living in fear. They are a fool's dreams. No matter how beautiful they are."

So Erik liked the ideas of a world where coexistence was possible. Interesting. Still, the visit felt odd. His friend appeared possibly desperate here. Why? Surely he knew Charles would never agree with him on his beliefs, no matter how low a point in his life he was at. He needed to quash any hope that he would ever join a rebellion force such as Magneto's current one.

"You think you have the world all figured out. You know nothing."

The words were spoken with a layer of ice coating them, distancing himself from someone he'd once felt so close to. Erik definitely noticed the wall being raised up between them, and Charles had to admit, he was surprised when Erik tried to break through to reach him.

"We're meant to be together, Charles. Please, see reason."

He was pragmatic in his answer, not at all doubting himself. "I do see reason and the truth. You see the reason that best supports your self-proclaimed cause."

Erik shook his head quick. "You and I-"

He raised up a hand. "In another life, Erik. In this one, I cannot lay down my beliefs so that you can seek revenge against an imagined slight."

Whoops. That had hit his old friend someplace where the rage was kept. "Imagined?!"

Charles felt like a broken record. "Humans are not the enemy. There are enemies out there, mutants and humans alike, and while you plot against those who would mean you no intentional harm, there are some who would do harm, and intend it."

"Charles..."

"That is how the world works."

"Charles?"

This time it was Raven reaching out to him, her own desperation and sadness mixing into the name spoken. It made him decide to be honest, completely.

"I wish I could stand at your side. At least," he glanced bitterly down at the chair that was his trap before he continued. "Sit at your side, anyway... But as you are now, rage rules your logic. I cannot abide it."

"You think I came here for your blessing?"

There was almost what sounded like disgust in his voice but he saw right through it. There always had been a connection between them, even without the use of his telepathy.

"I know it. I know you, even after all this time apart. You came here for absolution."

Erik stared down at the board. "Your turn?"

He released a quiet sigh. Charles moved his queen diagonally and leaned back in his chair. "Checkmate."

His old friend fiercely studied the board in front of him until he confirmed that the game had indeed been lost on his end. It wasn't the only thing lost to him today. He stood from his seat and came around to Charles's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was a comforting gesture but he couldn't help but feel it would only make their departure more difficult. It was unlikely he would see Erik again after turning him down a second time. He might not see Raven again either, and that hurt quite a lot to consider.

Walking over to stand with the members of his brotherhood, he held out his hand for Mystique to take. She turned back towards Charles, and he could see the raw pain he was causing her. He was sorry this was hurting her, but it was a mutual pain, not that that would ever make it hurt any less for either one of them.

"Please, be careful." Charles said, meaning it for all of them.

His hands resting in his lap, he stared unseeing at the chess board. He did not look up even after the noise of the teleportation reached his ears, complete silence descended over the room, and he was alone once more. He was alone. He thought he would cry. Instead, he felt numb.


	3. Changes

**Chapter Two**

**Changes**

_Westchester County, New York, 1973_

_"Weak... You must prove your strength."_

Charles shook his head from side to side, palm pressed to the side of his pounding head. The migraine had worsened in record time. A week since Erik's visit, since he'd seen Raven again. The visit made things worse. It made him realize even more how much things had gone wrong since the event that had become known as the Cuban Missile Crisis. Nothing felt right anymore and he was tired of putting on a mask for his six remaining students. If they could even be called students. He certainly didn't bother holding classes any longer and the occupants of his estate spent their days continuing their training together, in his absence.

_"Know your true self. Forget them. Kill them or find others to kill. Others like you are a threat to you. The threat must be eliminated. Then X shall rise."_

His fist flew into the bathroom mirror before he even realized he was doing it. Blinking slowly, he stared blankly at his bloodied knuckles. It took him a long moment of watching the blood trail down pale skin, dripping onto the floor, feeling as if time itself had slowed, before he actually reacted. He grabbed a towel from beside the sink and placed it against the bleeding hand. The flow was slowing already, soon ceasing entirely. A few minutes later and there were no traces of blood, hand wrapped in clean white bandages around the knuckle area.

"Professor Xavier?"

He lifted his gaze upward, staring into the now partially broken mirror in front of him. There were dark shadows under his eyes, shoulder-length hair shaggy and unwashed. The exhaustion was evident. It would be difficult to excuse his appearance away. His students, they were endlessly hounding him about his turn into a hermit over the last few years. They wanted him to be the mentor and friend who'd found them out in the world and given them a home. That was ten years ago. He couldn't help them anymore. When would they move on and leave him to himself? He was so tired.

"Professor X?"

_"X, Charles. It's your future. Leave the professor behind. Eliminate the threats."_

"Be quiet!" he hissed at the unrelenting whisper in his head.

He was at the end of his rope, at the precipice of a cliff that he couldn't step back from. His head felt like it was going to explode. Erik wanted nothing to do with him. His own sister wanted nothing to do with him. His students were better off elsewhere. Why couldn't they get it? Why couldn't they leave him alone?

"Er..did you say something? Professor?"

A knock came at the door to his room. Giving in, he exited his bathroom and wheeled himself over to the table where the chess set still sat. The pieces were left where they'd been when Erik and the others came and went one week ago. The game portrayed his own checkmate over his old friend's black pieces, yet he felt it was himself who'd been beaten that day. It was the defining moment that told Charles there was little point in his caring. Everyone just cared about what he could do for them. Even Erik and Raven only wanted him around them if he was going to agree with their rash tactics and growing animosity towards the human race. Loneliness consumed him and it did nothing for him. Perhaps it was right to allow fury to take him over. He had nothing else left.

_"Yessss."_

Charles winced at the hiss in his head. Either his stress of late was making his telepathy act up, churning about the thoughts in his mind, or he was losing it. There was a definite lack of control and he'd always prided himself on his ability to remain calm and steady, no matter the adversity. This was so unlike him.

"Come in then!" he finally called out to the door.

Immediately the door pushed inward and a face poked through. Alex peeked his head through the doorway, timidness apparent on his normally confident exterior.

"Hey, professor, uhh..."

"Out with it, Alex. What troubles you?"

Then his mind felt a new presence in the house. "We have a visitor."

"Uh, yeah. He, what he's saying... It's unbelievable. Crazy really. I think you should come see him. You're the only one who's going to be able to tell if he's lying."

"What makes you think he lies?"

"Well, he claims to be from the future. Says you, from the future, sent him."

He stared at Alex, even as he closed his mind to the minds around him. His half dozen students were all here, a captive audience for their new visitor. This man certainly sounded insane but he would hear what he had to say.

Together they descended to the first floor via elevator. When they made their entrance into the sitting area, each of his students briefly approached to greet him and give a smile. The old Charles would have been warmed by this display of affection. Now, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. Once they moved away to sit or stand at different spots in the room, Tom and Hank remaining at either side of his chair, he allowed his gaze to focus on the one unfamiliar face in the room.

The man looked to be about 30, dark hair on his head and face. A leather jacket, plaid shirt, and jeans described his attire. His brown eyes met Charles's gaze with obvious interest.

"Hey there, professor."

He couldn't help the arch of one of his eyebrows. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being acquainted."

The other chortled a bit at that, apparently finding amusement in what he'd said. "No, not yet. You could just read my mind. I'm sure you think I'm some loon, come to swindle you out of your inheritance or something of the sort."

Charles didn't crack a smile, but he was tempted to. There was something about this man that he liked. It wasn't so far-fetched to believe he might know this man. He did in the future it seemed.

"I don't simply go diving into people's minds without their permission. So I've been told you come from the future. Could it be you have a mutation that allows you travel through time?"

"Nope. Sorry to disappoint. Technically this body is mine from this time period. My mind is another story."

"From the future." Charles filled in.

"Yeah. Another mutant used her ability to send my future mind into my body in this year. She did it because you asked her to. It's why I'm here, too."

He followed. "Myself did, in the future."

The man nodded and glanced at the others in the room briefly before returning his attention to Charles. "I'm from 2023 and one of your X-Men. Name's Lo-Wolverine. Looks like these are the beginnings of your school?"

Charles frowned at that. "Well, not quite. There were more..." He sighed, deciding he didn't want to finish what he'd been saying. "It's not important. I must ask, what brings you all the way from the future to see me?"

"A divide grew between you and Magneto when you were both young, and as a result, some bad shit went down. I'm here to get you to wake up and get out there to stop it."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The future you, told me you made a mistake. You turned away from the world and so missed what was happening. You allowed Magneto and his Brotherhood's actions to go unchecked. Their violence forced the government's hand and they began work on a project in secret. A project no one knew even existed until it was too late. The war that resulted, it has to be prevented."

"A war? What are you talking about?"

"A war that results in mutants and humans alike being virtually wiped out. The future I come from is a wasteland. Mutants are hunted by programmed robots designed to kill them. You have to stop it from ever happening by changing things now. You and Magneto can change the future if-"

Charles laughed, bitterly, humorlessly. "I can change nothing. I dreamed I could, once, but that's died now."

"Xavier-"

"Professor!" several of his students tried to protest.

"No."

He said no to it all. Wolverine cut himself off, waiting for what Charles had to say. His students held their tongues though he didn't have to be telepathic to know they were itching to argue, to speak their minds against what he'd decided.

"Erik chose his path. I've chosen mine. There is nothing left to discuss."

"But the future-"

"Is abysmal? The present I live in currently is rather dismal itself I'm afraid."

Wolverine narrowed his eyes at him. "You, the you from the future I mean, said he was a different man in 1973. I didn't expect him-you-to be this different though."

"Sorry to disappoint. I seem to be doing a lot of that these days."

His students started up with the disagreeing and protests but he silenced it all with a single raise of his hand, the non-bandaged one. He didn't need them focusing on that any either. A sharp pain coursed through his head. He winced and lowered his gaze to the carpet before forcing his eyes up to meet Wolverine's once more.

"Perhaps Erik can help you, though I imagine there is no reason he will find to help you either. I will make myself clear. There will be no help found here."

"Professor," Tom tried, coming to bend partially down to look at him. "If the world could really be in trouble, shouldn't we do something?"

"And what could we do? This man doesn't even have a plan. He doesn't even know what precisely goes wrong that leads to a future war."

"Magneto's anger towards the human race causes them to rise up and develop a plan against all mutants. The war kills millions!" Wolverine divulged, sounding particularly annoyed he was not being heard. "You are the one to do something about it."

"I disagree. I am not the one to help. Well, perhaps I could do one thing for you."

Wolverine waited, listening cautiously to where this was headed.

"I will use Cerebro and locate Erik or at least one of his associates, should he be wearing that helmet."

He felt Hank's eyes coming to rest on the back of his head. "Are you certain you can handle Cerebro? It's been..a long time since you used it last."

"It'll be fine. You can even accompany Wolverine and myself to ensure I don't collapse as you think I might."

"I don't-"

He began to wheel himself to the doorway, glancing back at the uncertain and nervous looking scientist. An odd sight when the man was blue and furry.

"Coming?"

Hank sighed and followed, Wolverine trailing behind them. The remainder of his students were left behind to whisper and wonder. It didn't matter. None of it did.

"When we get below, I shall read your mind to see what you obviously need me to see. I assure you, it will change nothing on my part. Is this acceptable?"

It was. It was strange how many were so willing to trust him into their very personal minds.

Entering Cerebro's circular chamber, the second version of this machine he'd used, he wheeled himself forward, Hank and Wolverine flanking him on either side. It had been years since he'd entered this room. Examining the machine's components and the sitting helmet, he saw a rather thick layer of dust coating everything. While Hank went over to fiddle with the controls, Charles picked up the helmet, blowing dust off of it.

The memory of the first time he'd ever used a machine like this flashed through his mind. Erik had been there, watching with obvious fascination as Charles experienced the rush of power and reach the machine allowed his mind. A life like that could have meant many more moments, him and Erik, working together to find and help mutants. A sharp pain came and went through his head. He winced. Ouch. That had been happening more and more.

He set the helmet back down and turned around to face his supposed visitor from the future. He had given his word to do one other thing for this man. Briefly he beckoned the man to come closer.

"With your permission, I will read your mind now."

Again, so willing to allow him access. Why was that? He was nothing special. He was a mess. A pathetic excuse for a breathing body unless he did something about it.

When he was finished, he removed his hands from the sides of Wolverine's head, aforementioned man straightening himself up and waiting. Charles mulled over the images he'd seen. The world was much abused in the future, that was certain. If that was the future where he stayed on his path to help mutants and run his school, why do it? His thoughts of leaving the manor and finding a new path in life seemed far more viable now. He knew this was not what the future man had intended when he transferred not only his memories, but his struggles and pains to survive and protect. It was good then, that he did not care if the other got what he thought he needed.

Charles fixed tired eyes on Wolverine. His anger level was rising at an unhealthy rate.

"I don't want your suffering!" he spat at the other man, volume of his voice rising along with the rage. "I don't want your future!"

It upset him that this man would find him and feed him all of his pain, anger, and sorrow. He had enough of that bottled up inside of himself. He didn't want to be near this man any longer. He didn't want to be by any of them anymore.

Forcing himself to calm, he twirled himself around in his chair and wheeled closer to the helmet. Lifting it in his hands, he glanced toward Hank, who stood by nervously.

"Are you ready? I will find Erik or his people, and then our visitor will be on his way."

He took a moment to look back at Wolverine, or Logan as he'd seen when in the other man's mind.

"And he shall not return here again."

Without waiting for a response, he turned to the machine and head-piece, concentrating solely on the task at hand. It was something he'd rather not do. If it would send the unwelcome visitor and his suffering on his way, it would be done. Cerebro hummed to life.

_London, England, 1973_

Anomaly moved to sit against the wall beside his partner and sister. She sipped her hot chocolate quietly but with much enjoyment. Even as immersed as she seemed to be in her steaming beverage, when their target walked by on the other side of the street, both of their eyes followed after him.

Marcus Smith, also known as Shield. A class three mutant in his late 30's, born in Westminster, raised in London, with the talent of immunity to just about anything as well as having the capability to mute or stunt another mutant's ability. His powers developed when he was twelve, but he didn't become anyone of interest until he was twenty-two. It was when he killed his first human. Somehow the court ruled it to be self-defense. It had been anything but. Marcus Smith was a well off and likable businessman, while Shield was dangerous, prone to violence. He'd grown a superiority complex once his mutation fully manifested and he discovered no other powers could hurt him, bullets and knives bounced off his skin, and he was essentially untouchable.

Shown a little appeal to be a leader of others with mutations, a result of Apocalypse's direct intervention, they'd been helping him recruit others to his cause ever since. They sought out a future without humankind. The plan was to destroy the old world and reform the planet, with mutants in power. He was well on his way to becoming the next Sebastian Shaw. Whether or not he would succeed at this point was unknown. Bree bet he wouldn't. He was merely a means to an end so his failure would mean little.

Brian and Bree watched as one by one, the selected mutants they found for Marcus, passed through the crowded London street. There was the young woman with green eyes who could become invisible. She was haughty and confident and perfectly assertive for their makeshift rebellion.

This was their secondary plan for the future. In the past, it was Magneto's Brotherhood that resulted in a project being pioneered by the government to wipe out all mutants. By creating another group of mutants with a desire to rule or kill humans, it would make that project all the more likely to occur. Apocalypse and Anomaly were extremely effective at what they did, however, and so they'd brought someone from an alternate version of the future to this time in the past as well. He was already at work, breaking Charles Xavier down into nothing of what he once was.

He and his sibling took the threat of this infamous man very seriously. In every future they'd visited, he'd always been well known, a formidable force who did so much for mutants and humans alike. Except for one future, where he'd been nothing like all the other futures. From that alternate future, Apocalypse had requested him to leave that future and come to the past. When told it would be to encourage his past self to become him, he'd been rather interested in helping them out. This was the primary plan. Change Charles Xavier into an entirely different being.

They also recognized that since nearly every future kept a pure-hearted version of this man, it might be a long shot. Hence, the secondary plan already in effect and being monitored to ensure it progressed to their satisfaction. They couldn't take any chances. They had to ensure certain attacks and assassinations of key political figures took place, so that the government felt necessity to act against mutants. Then the future they hailed from would be fully secure.

While watching two more members of Marcus Smith's team pass by, a man and woman, both class two mutants, a few of the ordinary citizens of the city turned their way, staring. Mumbled whispers and then they were moving on in a hurry, but he couldn't blame them for the attention. He and his sister continued to dress in their future clothing, that of warriors. Light weight armor adorned their bodies, black in color and form fitting, allowing them ease of movement, speed, and the ability to move silently where needed. It was not the attire of the 1970s to be sure.

"If he fails to provide the results we want?" he questioned Bree.

She was the one who could time-travel and so she made most of the decisions for them. She knew the most about all the different versions of time that could conceivably result and recognized certain significant points in location and time. He was reliant upon her to make the best choices to preserve the future they came from and would follow her anywhere, regardless. Apocalypse was very good at what she did. So was he.

"Then we won't settle for second best." she answered him, not bothering to look up from the hot beverage she'd returned her attentions to. "We'll bring Shaw to this time ourselves to get the job done."

"If you deem it necessary, all right." Hesitation, then he trailed the final man in Smith's group as he moved along through the crowd, before settling his gaze to his partner at his side. "I dislike relying on others so much."

"They are the players, we are the designers. It is always in our grasp, our control. Do not worry so much, brother. Our future will be maintained, success is at hand."

He took the now empty cup from her hand, tossing it into the trash bin near where they sat. Pulling her close, she laid her head on his shoulder and they continued to watch the stifling masses of people crowding about them on the street.

"Turning Charles Xavier is plan A, should the Brotherhood fail to do what they did to create our future decades later." Anomaly reiterated. "Plan B lies with Marcus and his gathering opposition to humanity. So, what do we do now?"

"Sit back, watch the present play out."

Anomaly smiled. "And if it doesn't go accordingly?"

She returned his smile with one of her own. "Then, we do something."


	4. Doubts and Fears

**Chapter Three**

**Doubts and Fears**

_Alexandria, Virginia_

The ceiling was high, with a spectacular array of stained glass windows. She often spent her mornings watching the sunlight filter through. Beautiful and unique things could always captivate her. Every single window was different than the last. She loved this place, a recently closed down church. It was why they'd made it their latest headquarters, with thanks to Magneto's say so as well of course.

Today was like any other day, except it was a bit uglier than that. She was preparing for another mission. This was going to be a very different mission than the others that had come before. For one, this was her first solo mission. Secondly, it was going to be her first kill.

A big day, a lot of pressure. She couldn't take her mind off the plan running repeatedly through her head. Everything had to go perfectly. The mission had to be a success because Magneto didn't know about it. She'd planned this one on her own, only Azazel providing aid on some of the finer details, such as the layout of the Washington D.C. area where her target would be.

The target was a vocal politician with strong views against those with mutations. Though mutants were still largely believed to be mythical in the eyes of the public world, prominent governments were well aware of their existence. This particular politician demanded the American government create a list of all known mutants. He wanted every mutant to be found, tracked, and monitored. His obvious hatred for her kind was offensive and it pissed her off. It would be a huge benefit to their cause if he were to be eliminated. Magneto was going to be so proud.

Proud, of her first kill. Charles wouldn't be proud of her doing such a thing. He didn't understand that the Brotherhood cause was necessary. They were trying to change the world for the better, by ridding it of those who would hate or hurt them. Taking bad people out of the picture would have to make it better to live in, more tolerable for every mutant too afraid to reveal themselves. That just made sense. She wanted to have the choice to conceal what she really looked like in front of other people. No more hiding, no more feeling self-conscious, and no more letting others try to hurt her just for being what she'd been born as, a mutant.

Her brother, could never find out what she was going to do. She couldn't bear it if she were to see the disappointed look in his eyes at the knowledge she'd killed a man. Mystique had to kill this man though, for Magneto, for the cause. When Charles was sad, an even worse sight. When they were kids and Charles was sad, whether it was because his mom was away again or his step-father was mean, sometimes his emotions leaked out of him, extending into her. Since they were already connected as siblings who found each other, chose each other, she embraced the feelings as if they were her own, shared in his pain until it passed. She'd always felt it was the least she could do for how much friendship and kindness he'd shown her after giving her a home and a place to feel safe.

Guilt flooded through her. Shit. Like she didn't have enough of that every single day of her life. Ever since she'd left Charles on the beach, she hadn't felt the same. It was like there was a big hole right where her heart rested in her chest. He told her to leave that day. It was okay that she left. He hadn't been mad. _No, he'd been devastated._ She shook her head, as if to clear it of those thoughts. If he was that upset, he would of said something. Except, maybe he wouldn't. He was awfully self-sacrificing and did everything he could to help anyone who may be in need.

Ten years later and she only came to see him once, barely a week ago. He hadn't looked well. Worst sister of the year award definitely went to her. She thought about him every day at least once, and she often had a reoccurring dream she'd had all her life since Charles entered into her own. A dream where they were together against the world as she'd forever hoped would happen. But she'd never gone to see him and that was what mattered. That was what he would remember. She was probably nothing to him now. That particularly stung because she'd wanted to be his Raven forever, still did. To everyone else it was Mystique, but Charles, he wasn't anyone else.

She found her thoughts had irrevocably left focusing on the mission ahead of her and stuck on her constant sorrow. Which was probably best, since she was nervous and hesitant about the concept of taking a life. She wished her brother could be there with her. Years ago she'd accepted that it couldn't be, couldn't happen because Charles couldn't change. Raven would never want him to either. She loved him for being precisely who he'd always been. Perhaps that was the reason her visit with Charles after all this time had been so troubling.

Raven had found him a much changed man. From the things she'd heard him say, he'd sounded very much like himself. From what she'd seen, he'd looked tired and angry and that wasn't her Charles. If only their cause wasn't so important, then she could focus all her energy on helping her brother. If anyone deserved help, it was him. But Erik had said nothing about Charles since the visit. Magneto was strong, full of conviction, and chose to dedicate his life to the mutant cause. He knew best. He did.

"What troubles you, Myst?"

Raven casually shifted her yellow eyes over to where Azazel stood, standing near the altar. She hadn't heard the distinct crack of his teleportation taking place, but it didn't mean anything. Her mind was on..other things. She sat up quickly when she saw he'd not appeared alone. The other members of the group disbanded, heading either upstairs to the loft or in other rooms adjacent to the main room. Magneto, Emma, and Azazel remained, walking over to where she sat on one of the hard pews.

She'd never quite warmed to Angel, so was not too happy to see her linger by the small prayer area along with Janos, who preferred being called Riptide. She was kneeling down as if she were actually praying alongside Janos, who Mystique fully believed was saying a prayer. Maybe she was, too. Angel had sobered and grown up a lot since joining the movement for mutant supremacy. Both young, sometimes they confided their doubts with each other. It was the only moments they really bothered to spend time in each other's company.

"She has the telepath on her mind."

Mystique sent a glare Emma's way. The woman was a very different telepath from Charles, invading another's mind at leisure. He would never do that, while she took pleasure out of doing so. It was probably the reason Magneto could rarely be seen without his helmet on. Emma was an asset, but she sometimes had issues with doing precisely what she was told.

The shapeshifter had her fun pointing out how much more powerful Charles was than her often. Her little way of getting revenge on the bitch in white. Refocusing her attentions on the leader she adored and the man next to him she was sweet on, Mystique tried to clear her mind of her brother.

"It's nothing. How'd it go?"

"The event was postponed until Thursday so the attack will be delayed, but it will happen." Magneto told her, then smoothly switched topics. "You are bothered. Why?"

"Doesn't matter."

"If it distracts you from what needs to be done in two days, then it matters."

She said nothing about the mission she had planned for tonight, and gave great care not to let those thoughts enter her mind. She could only hope Azazel was smart enough to do the same. Magneto came to sit beside her, Emma and Azazel coming to a stop just before her.

"Do we really need the audience to talk about this?"

"I don't think you really care. You're avoiding."

"Says who?"

Emma opened her mouth, probably to answer for him, but Magneto waved her quiet. He tilted her chin upward and smiled, placing a gentle hand on her thigh. The touch was pure friendship and care for one of his own. Azazel and she both knew this. Their leader was a man who could be trusted. Reluctantly, she met his eyes.

"Because Charles is never nothing."

"He could be," muttered Emma.

Metal candleholders on a table nearby began to rattle. Well, that was a mistake for her to say out loud. Completely self-involved this woman. The original members of the Brotherhood who'd seen Charles and Erik together on that beach knew just how important the man in the wheelchair was to him. They'd been there for the first few years when Magneto raged frequently and spent most of his time alone, knowing it could all be attributed to a certain telepath who'd not taken the man up on his offer to fight the world together.

Magneto showed enormous restraint in not even turning in the woman's direction, his attention on Mystique alone.

"Was it the visit? Did it upset you?"

"Of course it did!" she snapped, childishly. Just as soon as it came out of her mouth, she tried to take it back with an apology. "I'm sorry. I... Magneto..."

He leaned back against the pew, continuing to meet her eyes as she twisted around partially on the bench in order to do the same. When it came to her brother, she was at a loss for words. Supposedly the Brotherhood's opposition, what was she supposed to say. Even if it was in Erik's company, this church was large but hollowed, with thin walls. It would not surprise her if the others heard every word that was said in this room. She found the words she knew she'd been thinking about ever since she'd seen the worn appearance of her brother during their brief visit.

"I think... I think he thinks you'd let us die if it'd serve your cause."

"You believe Charles thinks this of me?"

"I'm not sure he's wrong."

Silence loomed throughout the church. A very real silence. There wasn't even the chattering of the other members and the shuffling about that had been occurring before. They were all of them listening, just as Raven had feared they might. Either Magneto didn't notice, or more likely, he didn't care.

"You believe as I do, that we will never be accepted as we are. When the humans decide we are too threatening, they'll turn on us. It's only a matter of time. All of us believe the same things. We remain strong, we'll remain superior. We'll win."

He hadn't exactly replied to her concern. That in itself was in all likelihood the confirmation he would make sacrifices of his own kind in order to win out over the humans. It surprised her, and it didn't surprise her at the same time. Magneto was a man of conviction, dedicated to the cause, never doubting that what they worked toward was the right thing to do, the necessary thing.

"You mean to say..." she trailed off, needing to hear it from his mouth herself.

He didn't disappoint.

"There are casualties in any war."

Sudden shyness took her over. The intense stare was too much for her. Anger, confusion, fear, and doubt flowed through her. She pushed it back. Emotions didn't bode well for a soldier of the Brotherhood. If she was going to succeed in the assassination tonight, she had to remember how to tame her feelings, focus on what needed to be done, and recall defenses Azazel had taught her.

Emma was looking at her. Crap. If she was reading her thoughts right now then she would have heard everything she'd just thought about the mission. Speaking her mind usually did the trick of creating a diversion.

"Does there have to be a war?"

She asked her question quietly, softly. Nearly all of the time she tried to act tough, independent, and proud. This was a major change and it was because the gravity of what they were doing was hitting her. Ten years of seeing no end in sight and now she felt almost heartbroken at what this might mean.

"What if we spend our whole lives fighting and we never win? What if we don't get what we want?"

Raven nearly choked on what she was going to say next when Magneto looked at her with such surprise. She scanned the room. Emma continued to look the same as she usually did, haughty and assured. Azazel frowned slightly, but it was out of concern, not anger or confusion. He was one of the few she confided her personal feelings with. Magneto never heard them unless it was obvious, because he was a leader with plenty of work to do. She never wanted to bother him. He meant too much, was too important for that.

"What do you mean? We will fight until we defeat the humans and claim our birthright."

Realizing what she was preparing to say could mean she was kicked out, ostracized from the group, she nearly backed down from what she had to say. If Angel and Janos had been praying, they made no pretense to be doing so anymore. They were staring over at her. It was as she thought with the rest of their group, listening to every word their leader was saying, everything she said. Some even dared to stick their heads or eyes where they could, so they could see them talking, too.

Mutant and proud, sure, but they were still people who couldn't resist hanging onto every word Magneto said. Sometimes she thought Charles did have some good points. Mutants acted every bit like humans did. They ate, drank, slept, and lived their lives day by day. Her mind was made up in seconds. She had to say what she needed to because that was just the kind of person she was.

"Erik."

She hadn't called him Magneto. He looked at her, like he was waiting to assure her of whatever doubts she might be about to express. He could be so smooth with words at times and she genuinely hoped he could assuage her here and now as well.

"Erik, I thought, I thought eventually I'd be able to, that _we'd_ be able to go home."

Magneto's face became stone. He'd shut down. Any minute now he'd be kicking her out of the Brotherhood and she'd be all alone again. She had nowhere to turn. She'd abandoned the only real home she had ever known. As time went by she thought she would be okay because the Brotherhood was her own kind, people she could be herself around. She thought maybe one day they would feel like a new home to her. A decade gone by and home remained the same even after all this time. She should just keep quiet now and hope it would be enough for him to let her stay.

A dark-skinned teenage girl from Louisiana stepped out from behind a wall at the front of the church. She could locate anyone in the world with just a thought.

"Do you think that's possible? That we won't be able to go home?"

"I don't know." Mystique breathed in response. "Forget it."

Magneto looked like he was going to, then one of his people came through the front door, out of breath.

"What?" the commanding presence in the room immediately asked.

The twenty-five or so man who had a tad bit of a reptilian appearance to go with his leaping ability tried to catch his breath for a moment and then nodded once to acknowledge all of them. Brushing off some dirt from his pants, he spoke to them.

"The rumors are true. There are some mutants gathering in Britain. We should find them, add to our numbers."

Emma smiled. "This is good news."

If nothing more had been said, perhaps she would have felt all right. She probably would have put the conversation behind her, gone on with this mission she'd been working so hard to put together for herself, and nothing would be any different. The news the messenger brought to them all but confirmed what she'd feared, what Charles had. If the Brotherhood kept on as they did, there would be a war. Mystique felt so stupid. Of course there would eventually be a war. She'd been plotting to murder a man with plenty of wealth and plenty of influence. If they continued to attack facilities and people who Magneto considered a threat to mutants, the humans would be forced to action. Were they doing what Magneto feared the humans would do to them one day?

"Of course we are, sweetie. It's called a preemptive strike."

Mystique flinched at this invasion into her privacy. She said his name without thinking, desperate to call off all the attention to her losing faith in the Brotherhood. Especially because it was temporary. It had to be. Magneto would say something to make her believe again and things would be fine. Just fine.

"Charles."

"What of the telepath, my dear?" Azazel queried.

Too late to go back now.

"He's home. Charles feels like comfort. He always feels like home. If we begin a war, I'll never be able to go home."

"Who is Charles?" the girl who'd spoken earlier, Monica, asked her curiously.

No one bothered to hide they were listening. All of the Brotherhood was in that church hideout and they were all witnesses to their leader and one of his best followers having this very dangerous, very complicated discussion. The things she was saying, no one else would dare for fear of Magneto's wrath. Besides, they all respected him too much. Each of them were probably thinking what an ungrateful and disloyal member she was being. Hard to blame them. She was questioning what they were doing, what their ends were to be.

The messenger scuffed his shoe on the hard floor. Emma lifted her eyes to him and then turned back to Magneto.

"Curious."

Magneto perked up, providing her his full attention. "What is?"

"The messenger brings other news." Emma informed. "He was exiting the area of his surveillance assignment when he was happened upon by a pair of Professor X's students. Not a coincidence. An American woman and a Japanese kid. An older man was with them, and they told him a story. As far as Darius here can tell, they were being truthful. A future Charles Xavier and a future Erik Lehnsherr, sent the man's mind into his younger body in order to time-travel. He came to this year to stop assassinations and attacks apparently performed by our organization. Attacks that cause the humans to retaliate with the birth of a project, a project that nearly wipes out everyone, both mutant and human."

"Can there actually be any truth to that?" asked Magneto, appearing reasonably doubtful.

Emma stared down the uncomfortable messenger currently having his mind combed through. "That's not the most interesting part. This man from the future gave Xavier the warning first, and was rejected. Now that doesn't sound like the telepath I recall."

Finally pulling out of his head, Emma glanced toward Magneto and the messenger breathed freely again, glaring at the female telepath.

"Don't do that! And, well, you missed the small detail about the future guy telling me about how they need Magneto's help apparently. They want him to help Charles hope again."

"What does that mean?" Azazel demanded.

The messenger shrugged. "I don't know. It's just what they said. That they need Magneto's help. He's the only one who can help. I don't know! I'm just the deliverer."

He moved away from the double doors and Monica was speaking again, raising questions of her own once more.

"Seriously, who's this Charles guy? And Professor..X?"

So many goddamn stares directed towards Magneto and in effect, herself. It was unnerving. Mystique could never be a leader. She preferred being at someone's side instead. Less pressure, more comfort to be herself. She wondered if that even made sense. She just didn't know about things sometimes.

"Professor X is Charles Xavier," Magneto said, raising his voice to be sure everyone heard him clearly. "He showed me I wasn't alone in this world. He unburied good memories I hadn't even known were in my mind. He stood by me when no one else would."

Raven felt his attention moving to her, even as he climbed to his feet. His gaze shifted to scan across the many faces staring back at him before he went on.

"What is relevant to you, is that he cares about mutants and..and he is a great man. Don't ever doubt that fact. A great man such as him will make change in the world. Even when it might appear he is against us, he isn't really. He fights our fight, through subtler means, but it is the same fight. He is one of us."

"You make him sound so wonderful." Angel put in, getting to her own feet from across the room. "If that's true, where has he been in all of this? Why have we barely heard a word from him all these years?"

"The two people he cared most for in this world left him bleeding on a beach with no way off it," the words flowed so easily off her tongue, she couldn't have stopped it if she'd tried. It was like for the first time she realized the full weight of what they'd done to Charles that day in Cuba.

Magneto fixed his gaze back down to her. "We will help him. He is one of us."

She watched as he shifted towards Azazel. "Bring him here."

The teleporter never hesitated to obey when it was Magneto. He hesitated. "He will not be happy."

"I know. But something has made my friend no longer what he was. If I can stop it here and now, I shall. And," he added, almost like an afterthought to the rest of the watching crowd of his followers, "If it preserves the mutant race at the same time, we need it."

Azazel nodded. "Very well."

He took a step back.

"Oh, and Azazel?"

"Yes?"

"Bring Mystique with you and for God's sake, get the man's permission to bring him or he'll make chopped vegetables of your brains in seconds."

The widening of his eyes in contrast to his red skin would have been comical if the situation had not been so bizarre and worrisome in its peculiarity. She transformed into her normal looking appearance, having acquired the ability to make people see clothes on her of any kind she was familiar with over the years, before taking Azazel's arm to transport. Would he even come? They'd have to move quick.

They returned to the church in a matter of minutes, Charles in tow, managing to make quite a presence, even in his chair. It had been easy to get him to come. Far too easy. Raven had but to ask him if he would please accompany her somewhere to see Erik and he was on board, ready to leave immediately. Even after a decade, she knew the man. What was going on with him? This was too eager, too simple. It was never that simple with her brother.

"Erik."

"Charles, thank you for agreeing to see me."

"I'm glad you asked permission this time, though you may have warned me before having your people pop up inside the grounds. Havok almost took Azazel's head off."

She observed Magneto looking her brother up and down, waiting for him to notice what she had instantly noticed. He did notice, and his frown even under the helmet, was very telling of that. Charles looked exhausted, hair kept but still rather long, and there was a bandage wrapped about one of his hands. Last she'd heard, one of his people could heal minor injuries. Why not have them heal the hand?

"What is this about? Wolverine come to see you?"

When he looked confused, Emma filled him in. "That's the time-traveler who came with the warning."

"Ah, Miss Frost, how've you been?"

"Oh, I have my days," she answered sweetly.

She stared at him, like she was trying to figure out what he was up to. Emma couldn't read his mind of course, not when he was a very skilled telepath, but Mystique could agree the behavior Charles exhibited was far too casual and friendly. When last she'd seen him a week ago, he'd shut them out. Now, he was trying too hard. Perhaps this was the manner in which he fooled his students into making them think everything was fine and he was still just Professor X of the school for mutants. If he wasn't, what did that make him?

"Charles, are you okay?" Raven questioned.

His eyes were for Erik though. "Erik, you're wearing the helmet and all so you know I can't read your mind, but, are you by any chance thinking of that day on the beach? The day you left?"

Magneto was shocked, and he wasn't the only one. How could Charles have read that off of body and facial language alone? She had seen how close they'd been to each other those weeks they'd spent getting to know-Was Charles smiling? He was. It was a small smile, but a smile.

"I understood. That's why I let you go that day on the beach. Why I let Raven leave with you. You are not at peace. You struggle every day to seek some means of having it. I believe one day you will find peace, and breathe again, without concern and anger throbbing ceaselessly in your mind. I hope to create that world for you."

Magneto pushed his puzzlement and insecurities at having his old friend present down, far down where they couldn't affect him. "I'm already working on that world, Charles. I mean to rule the humans so they cannot imprison us, hate us, move against us. We are the superior species. We have a right to rule them."

"No one has the right, to do what you do. I wish you would stop. I know you cannot. Perhaps I would have been better suited as a healer. That way, I could heal the wounds inside of you and this way you and I are now, wouldn't have to be."

Raven's heart broke. She was pretty sure she could see Erik's heart breaking, too.

"Charles, I need you here."

Now the rest of his people were shifting, shuffling, looking uncertain as to what was going on between their leader and this man they didn't even know.

"I need you, Erik. But I don't need Magneto. Don't even want him. He scares me."

"I don't mean to. I would never mean to."

It came out so earnestly, so genuine. Raven stared at Erik in wonder. Had she missed something big all those years in the past?

"Sometimes when we make choices, consequences result that we did not intend."

Hands clapping, slow, measured. "Couldn't have put that better myself."

Some of Magneto's mutants moved out from their awful hiding positions, ready to defend should the duo now standing at one corner of the church's back make a move. The tall, muscular looking man who looked to be in his late teens, was clearly agitated. Meanwhile, the woman at his side was of a smaller size but she didn't look any less of a threat. Both wore armored suits of a black shade, both had matching blonde hair and blue eyes. Siblings? Most likely. Mystique would even argue they could be twins.

"Who are you?"

The demand was made simultaneously by Erik and Charles, who glanced each other's way when this happened. Charles was immediately distracted though, by the female of the pair.

"Charles Xavier. We've been looking for you."

"Why?"

This had come from both Erik and Charles again. While they stared at one another, Emma snickered, and Mystique couldn't help but smile slightly. So alike. Why couldn't they be together? It would be so perfect. Life never seemed to end up how you wished it would.

"I'm Apocalypse. This is Anomaly. We-No!"

She'd broken off her own introduction when something most unexpected occurred. Yet another visitor to their church appeared. This one was very, very different though. He wasn't real. It was an astral projection of a man. The man was bald, wearing a black uniform of some sort. He sat in a wheelchair and his eyes were of a deep blue. Unmistakably, the eyes told those who knew him that he was Charles Xavier. A much older Charles, but it was him.

The projection appeared directly before the real and physical one, making it clear he was there to speak with himself. The younger Charles, their Charles, stared at himself. If an older version of herself had appeared, she would have been shocked, amazed, bewildered and impressed. Charles merely looked..blank. There might have been a little anger there, too. Where was her true brother?

"I've come because I suspect Logan has not demonstrated the necessary resolve it will take to bring you back from your depression."

"Hey, I take offense to that."

Logan or Wolverine, had just walked through the church's front doors. Mystique was beginning to think this was a rather bad hideout. Everyone seemed to be finding it with ease. Wolverine had probably followed Darius here. He wasn't exactly the stealthiest and most aware of their crew.

The projection didn't seem to hear Logan. Either it couldn't hear outside sources, or the future Charles was ignoring him.

"The war we fight in my present, is terrible. We've lost so many."

Her Charles was shaking his head. "I don't want to hear this. I don't want to know your suffering."

Wolverine was talking again, looking impatient that his attempts to warn everyone of the future to come was leading to zero change.

"There won't be mutants versus humans, Magneto."

Magneto raised an eyebrow, staring at the newcomer who was addressing him instead of Charles.

"There will only be those who follow the law of the Sentinels, and those who would oppose it. Those who do, die. We are the resistance. We live in a world of flame and ash. It is a terrible place." Wolverine explained persistently.

"It's a fine place. A world we were born into. We've learned to survive in hell and we like it that way." Apocalypse shared with them.

Magneto narrowed his eyes. "You'd turn this planet into hell?"

Charles regarded the pair at the back of the church for the first time. "Sounds all right. I'm already burning."

Horror spread across Mystique's face. What?! How could her brother say something like that? What was wrong with him? She felt so lost. This wasn't right. Nothing felt right anymore.

His older self appeared unaffected. He stared at their Charles until their gazes locked. "We need you..to hope again."

The projection faded away and Wolverine started to walk over to the young Charles, staring blankly at where his future self had appeared only a minute before. He opened his mouth to speak to him but their sibling visitors were having none of that apparently. Mystique stared at who she knew already she was not going to like, the girl in black armor.

Apocalypse stepped towards the buff man in the leather jacket, currently making his way to Charles, and put a stop to it.

"You. You're interfering. You shouldn't be here."

"And what is it exactly I'm interfering with?"

Wolverine sounded suspicious. Mystique knew it was with good reason. These two were up to something. What that was, she didn't know, but it felt bad. From what they'd said, they were from the future that apparently sucked. That probably meant at least one of them could time-travel. Why they were here in the past? There was a high probability they meant to stop what the other time-traveler, Wolverine, meant to do. If he wanted to prevent the future war, they must want to make sure it happened.

Wolverine's inquiry went ignored. Instead, Apocalypse looked at him with much annoyance evident on her face.

"Go-away."

She waved her hand effortlessly in his direction as she said this, and Wolverine vanished in a bluish cloud. Mystique couldn't just sit and watch everything just happen now. She stood up from the pew.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded.

Apocalypse was the epitome of calm. "I sent him to a different place a year from now, where he can't be in this time to interfere."

"Interfere with what? Preventing this supposed future from taking place." Charles was saying. His face was still so blank, emotionless. She didn't like it. "You came to see me, to ask me to come with you."

"Yes. We just want to talk to you. Then we'll take you back to your school. Hear what we have to say. That's all we ask." Anomaly explained.

"Don't listen to them, Charles! They're obviously up to no good. They seek to manipulate you." Erik tried, sounding almost desperate. That was very unlike him.

"The humans aren't the problem, Erik. This I've tried to explain to you. You will not hear me. Perhaps someone else will."

"What does that mean?"

"This world is the problem." Charles answered solemnly, scanning the room of inhabitants with his eyes, settling back on Magneto. "It's much harder to hope and lose that hope, than it is to never bother to hope in the first place. You were right, Erik. Right not to hope in a better world. There is no better. There is only the darkness. The cold, the despair."

"If you come with us, we promise we will help you to find the power to change the world." Anomaly told him.

A smile split his face. Mystique missed his real smiles. This was fake, this was mean, this was not Charles. Her fists clenched as he wheeled himself over to the siblings waiting for him. He was turning his back on them. How could he do this? His leaving them now was like when he'd turned down Magneto's offer on the beach. It hurt.

She watched as all three of them disappeared in a puff of blue smoke and light, like Wolverine had gone. Her stomach was starting to hurt. Seeing her brother twice within a week made her understand just how much he meant to her. The Brotherhood and helping mutants was important. But Charles, he was family. Family who had just turned his back on her. She wondered if Magneto had meant what he'd said.

"We'll give him a day." Magneto said aloud, to her, to everyone. "Then we find him."

She saw how he meaningfully looked in Monica's direction before she gripped one of his arms with her hand.

"We're going to help him?" she asked hopefully.

The last thing she wanted was for these two to end up fighting each other their entire lives when they obviously did better together. Her reply came quick, earnest, and if she was not mistaken, a tad emotionally. Magneto usually kept his emotions guarded, aside from the anger which sometimes slipped out. But his words were filled with such determination, she felt like their leader was going to make everything all right.

"Charles needs us."


	5. X

**Chapter Four**

**X**

_York, England _

They appeared in a beautiful courtyard, filled with flowers of a variety. A young couple wandered by, but they were the last. No one else was in sight. No one was there to bother them while they explained to Charles Xavier what he was capable of. That was exactly how they began the conversation as well.

"You have no idea what you could be, what you are capable of. You are destined for greatness, Charles. Let me show you the way."

She watched as he looked up at her, curiosity and awe evident, but more suspicion present than anything else. A glance to her brother told her that he saw the same. He grinned at her and then looked to the telepath who would one day be known for his great works. Great works that eventually evolved to nothing but the world they knew as their own. A world full of fear and despair, a world where she and her brother were like gods, powerful and dangerous. They and their family brought hope to the new world, that under the Sentinels reign, they could prosper and succeed.

"Charles, I would like to give you a gift. Is that okay?" Anomaly asked him.

There was no answer. Anomaly didn't wait for long before he approached, slow and measured. Freely allowing Charles to enter his mind to show him he meant no harm. In fact, he meant quite the opposite. He meant to help the man surrounded by friends, who remained utterly alone despite this reality. His sister had done good work in bringing an alternate version of Xavier to the present they were currently occupying. He'd done an excellent job of breaking the man down into what they needed him to be.

Anomaly glanced toward his sister and was grateful to see the telepath was too busy burrowing inside of her mind, instead of his own. He pushed down thoughts of their plans, building up metaphorical walls between them and the rest of his mind. Then he knelt down next to Xavier's chair, meeting his gaze as he knew he'd want.

"You hold yourself back. It is why you lose so much. You are far more powerful, yet refuse to use your full potential."

The professor winced, a reaction not completely unexpected. He'd chosen the words carefully, from words Apocalypse had told him were used by his very own alienated friend, Erik Lehnsherr, or Magneto. Those closest to the telepath betraying him a decade ago, had been their way in. Now, continuing to mold his mind with their ends would be the manner in which they kept him as their own weapon to forge their future.

He placed his hands atop Charles's thighs, noting his touch went unnoticed. No sensation at all in the telepath's legs. His fingers danced along the weakened muscles of unused legs. The man only noticed because of the movement of his hands, frowning down at the stranger before him. Dead cells, extending from his waist to his toes. Anomaly smiled. He could fix that.

"Forget absolution. Forget your obligation and feel free again. Explore genetic mutations, do what you love most. You can be free of your suffering. Let them go. They are your past. You, along with us, are the future."

Anomaly stood, stepping away from Charles. "I think you've spent long enough in that chair. Stand up. Claim what's yours."

The telepath frowned at him, then Apocalypse in turn. "And what is mine to claim?"

"Everything. The world is yours. Mine. The world is mine."

He didn't know if Charles realized he'd spoken out loud, an answer to his own question. It was likely he hadn't. Their alternate Charles had gone through a lot of effort to make sure this Charles didn't know what was being done to him. Together, he and his sibling looked to the man shadowing them. The man who was disappearing further into the dark spot of the building again. He would remain present. The man would always remain present.

"Stand, Professor Xavier."

In absolute amazement, Charles did as he said and reveled in the legs he could now feel. Wonder and joy filled him as he realized he could not only feel his legs, but they were strong and ready for immediate use. He was certain he could walk, he knew without a doubt that he could even run. Anomaly watched the professor understand what had been fixed, what possibilities existed, and simply waited. He was not left disappointed.

"No. It's X now."

Anomaly grinned. Apocalypse matched his prideful grin. They'd succeeded. A different Charles Xavier would mean the future they knew was all the more likely to exist. This was a good day.

"Let's get you cleaned up, X."

"Yes. Those with mutations are what started my problems. They've been hurting regular people with claims they are the ones prejudiced. They think themselves superior to everyone without a mutation. They are the threat. This is not right. I will put a stop to these wrongs."

"How will you do this, X?" Apocalypse asked him, smiling encouragingly.

A smile spread across his face. "I will kill them all."

The fire raged, spreading with a ferocity that couldn't be matched. Ash and debris rained down from the murky sky. There was a woman screaming, but it soon cut off, silenced by a rock fist to the head. The man entirely made of granite shifted back to his regular form as soon as he'd left the collapsing building behind. Shouldering a weighty looking bag over one shoulder, he used the other arm to wave at those awaiting him.

"Got it. Vests for all of us."

He passed them out to the waiting group of four. State of the art black armored vests engineered by British scientists, stored in an armory in York. Deemed too expensive for British soldiers to ever be outfitted with. Now a gift to all of them from Joseph Novak, AKA Granite.

A woman walked over to him and dropped a mostly empty bag at Granite's feet. She'd been inside the building with him to retrieve supplies they could use. She could turn invisible, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

"Well, well, what have we got here, Melissa?"

She sighed. "It's Blink now, Granite. And it's what I found to share with everyone, too."

He kicked open the bag and smiled. "Weapons. Fun."

When they were each of them outfitted with the vests, their group's uniform was complete. All of them wore bright red tops underneath the black vests. Granite wore a hooded sweatshirt, Blink wore a tank top, while Amy Benson and Jeremy Tallick wore a flowing red dress and a red t-shirt respectively. The latter two were known as Truth and Nightmare. Amy or Truth's mutation allowed her to get the truth from anyone simply by speaking to them. Nightmare, on the other hand, was all about lies. He could get into someone's head and create false realities or memories, making them trapped and suffering inside their own mind. Each of the members worked to serve a purpose for one man, their newfound leader.

Marcus Smith or Shield, was the leader of this group of society's misfits. They were called Reapers, because they sought to gather more recruits and they killed any who got in their way or didn't agree with the freedom for mutants they sought. Marcus was the only member aside from Amy to come from Britain. The rest were from America, where they would be heading soon. Shield lived up to his name, body immune to just about anything, and he was even capable of stifling others' powers if he so chose. He wore a black suit with a red silk shirt and a cape, a deep red cape, the color of blood.

They weren't sure where the idea for the cape had come from, but it did make the man look rather daunting, especially with the armored vest now added to his attire. His skill at speaking and ability to exude strength only added to his image as a person meant to lead. His team followed him because he promised them their abilities would grant them power. Their goal was to rebuild the world in the image of mutants. They would each of them become something one day because of this man. He gave them the courage to be who they were meant to be.

_New York, New York_

"Charles is here?"

Monica frowned in the blue-skinned mutant's direction, placing her hands on both hips as she took in their surroundings after teleporting near Central Park West with Mystique and Azazel. They were the scouting team. The remainder of the original six; Emma, Janos, Angel, and of course Magneto, would join them once Charles's location was confirmed. It had been the Brotherhood leader's orders that they be the ones to find and help Charles, whatever way they could. No one had fought him on it though. They could see how much it meant to their boss that the telepath be okay. When they arrived to the place their fellow member swore he was, the sight that fell upon them was shockingly unexpected.

When Monica's eyes finally landed upon their target, unveiling his presence to the rest, it was to a sight Mystique could not believe. The ones who only knew Professor Xavier a little could even see how wrong this sight was. Charles was here all right. He acted like nothing they'd seen before. In a few moments, Monica was whisked away from New York, back to the church hideout in Alexandria. Azazel returned to the expansive park in New York; Magneto, Emma, Janos, and Angel in tow.

The first thing the original six noticed, Charles was standing. There was no wheelchair in sight. Charles was standing and walking, easily. He was a good distance away yet but it was an incredible sight to witness. Their amazement at the professor's ability to walk again came and went when they fully took in just what he was doing. He was hurting people. A man in his late 20's and a woman of approximately the same age, cowered against a tree while Charles advanced on them. In seconds the pair were screaming and clawing at their heads, rolling around as if in absolute agony.

"Charles!" Raven cried out at the horrible sight in front of her.

She ran for him before any of the rest of them could react. When they did, it was to follow her. She was so close, only yards away, when he let up on the attack of the strangers strewn on the grass. Charles did this in favor of turning towards them. His eyes were glowing a bright blue. She'd never seen that before. It frightened her. She got the distinct impression this light in his eyes was from the amount of power being expended. He had to stop.

Her attention lingered from her brother to his poor victims lying on the ground. They didn't get up. She didn't think they could. They only moaned and twitched weakly on the grass. Angel went to them. Mystique heard her asking them if they were okay. She refocused on her priority.

"Charles? You're..walking."

"Astute observation. So tell me, will you be a shepherd or a sheep?"

"How did it happen? This is wonderful! Did you meet a mutant who could heal?"

He cocked his head at her. "Not exactly. If you'll excuse me."

Charles made to round on the quaking people practically sobbing from whatever they'd just experienced in their minds. The male of the two apparently deciding he needed to do something aside from weeping, sat upright, lifting his arm which suddenly engulfed in blue flame. Mystique startled. So he was a mutant, maybe even the woman, too. Why would Charles ever hurt another mutant? Forget that. Why would her sibling hurt any person, ever?

"Charles! Stop!" she cried out.

Glancing to her side, she watched Emma was stepping forward now, seeking to go head to head with a fellow telepath. Magneto was moving forward as well, but they all knew it was to ensure no harm came to his old friend. Mystique knew it couldn't be that way, not right now. She looked to him until he remembered himself and she was satisfied. That came when he recalled he was a leader now, Magneto, with armor and a helmet and a cape. He gave his orders, Azazel removing the would-be victims from the area and returning in a matter of heartbeats, Emma trying to force a pathway into Charles's head. The rest remained back where they could move at a moment's notice, but otherwise kept out of the way.

Mystique stood closest to her brother, aside from Emma, anxious and searching for a semblance of recognition. She wasn't finding any in him. It didn't make any sense. Why was he acting like they were nothing more than strangers?

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded of him.

"I see it now, but I don't understand it." Emma informed her boss.

"Explain," His lips had thinned, his jaw tightening. "What you mean."

Instead of explaining it to Magneto, she explained it to the subject in question.

"Someone who does not belong to this time has been whispering in your ear, Charles. Someone has changed you."

He scoffed at her. When Magneto tried to agree with his follower and steer his friend away from his insanity, all he got for his trouble was cold, detached laughter. There was no possibility for Mystique to ignore what Emma had said either. This wasn't her Charles one bit.

"Do not lay blame on another." Charles was practically scolding with his tone of voice. "It is you who chose the wrong path, not I."

She was impressed. Erik did stupendously at swallowing down his personal feelings, playing the role of Magneto as he fixed a glare on Charles.

"So this, this path you're on now, is the better one? Look at yourself. This is not you!"

Charles smiled, a half smile, a fake one. Then he actually looked down at himself. He was dressed just like Professor Xavier always was, nicely. Today he wore dress pants, shoes, and a dark blue dress shirt. If his eyes weren't aglow from emanating a high degree of telepathic power, the shirt would have made his already deep blue eyes stand out. The man had discarded his assortment of sweaters since he'd stopped being a recent college graduate and become a professor with nice shirts and suits. Mystique knew this because she'd kept her eye on him at a distance for all these years. How could she not?

"Hm..Perhaps you're right. I always imagined black could be my color."

Magneto shook his head, an abrupt dismissal at the attempt to make light of his concern. Her hope that Charles was actually fine and just a little confused or desperate to make the world better at a more rapid pace, was lost at his reply. The immediate anger was a shock.

"How can you know who I am when you turned your back on me as I was!"

"This isn't you." Erik repeated, more quietly this time.

The calm that overcame her brother was as sudden as Erik's was. "It's all that's left."

"Now I don't believe that for a moment."

The glow in his eyes faded until they became his regular blue hue. Instead of angry or cold, Charles just looked sad. Mystique's gaze flickered from her brother to her mentor, studying their reactions and searching for a sign they were able to reach each other. Hanging onto that damn hope her brother had always seemed to hold to so much, except for right now.

"Our beliefs are never quite the same, are they?"

She frowned at him. How could he say that? How could he be so infuriatingly un-Charles like. She was concerned for her brother, but she was starting to get pretty ticked off, too. It was startling when Emma seized the moment of tension and discomfort between once old friends to actually be of use and not just annoying.

"When did you last sleep?"

Charles shifted his gaze slightly in her direction, taking the time to scan Azazel, Janos, and Angel in the same single glance. For the most part, he kept his attention on Erik, and Mystique thought that was probably an improvement. She, for one, didn't care if a decade had gone by since the two had had a civil conversation that lasted. They were meant to be on the same side and working together for all mutants. She saw that. Why couldn't they?

Mystique found herself releasing air she hadn't realized she'd been holding in, when her brother actually answered Emma.

"I sleep all the time, but it's like I haven't slept at all when I wake."

The intensity in which the female telepath was staring Charles down, increased. Mystique could tell Emma was burrowing through his mind as rapidly as she could, her eyes flickering back and forth as she sifted through what was likely a lot of information, not to mention walls her brother had surely fortified to keep the majority of his mind private and protected. She knew the diamond woman would only get what Charles allowed her, maybe a fraction more. Her brother was the most powerful mutant she'd ever seen, Magneto included, and with what he'd been displaying today, he was even stronger than she had thought possible.

"What were you doing just now? Why were you harming those mutants?"

So Emma confirmed it for Mystique; the man and woman her brother was hurting before were mutants. Charles was in trouble. She didn't know how much just yet, but she was planning to find out. The ease at which he answered Emma's alarming question did little to ease the worry Mystique held for him.

"Mutants must be exterminated in order to protect the human race."

Well that was far from an anticipated response. Mystique glanced wildly about her as if the answers would be found somewhere nearby, then returned to look at the man who was not her brother.

"Charles! How can you say that?!" she demanded.

"You are mutant." Azazel stated, pointing out the obvious contradiction to such a statement.

Emma shushed them all, moving closer to where Charles was standing, beseeching he give her his full attention.

"Why do you think this?"

Charles began to speak, looking like the answer would be easy, then stuttered to an abrupt halt when he found he had nothing to say. His eyes darted, searching for what he needed to say in response, but he apparently came up empty. Emma was not letting him off that easily. She persisted, emphasizing her request as to why he thought mutants had to die.

His confusion was evident. She used that, delving into the shallowest recesses of his mind in order to draw out his long-held dream in a world of peace. Mystique didn't think she'd even needed to peek inside to know such an idea existed in the man. Maybe she liked having even some small access to a telepath of Charles Xavier's level, or maybe she really did have difficulty comprehending a selfless person.

"What about peace? You wish to build a world where there is peace between humans and mutants. Would a dream of that magnitude be so easily forgotten by you?"

"Yes. Peace. A world where no one has to be afraid; I want that." Charles frowned, confusion overtaking what had sounded so certain. "No, wait, it isn't what I want. Mutants need to die."

The telepath straightened and stared slightly upward, straight ahead at Emma for the first time. "I'm X now."

Emma smiled, but it was a tight smile. A look they recognized. She was guarding, trying not to resort to her diamond form to protect herself as the assault on her mind started. In an instant she slipped into her diamond form, faltering backwards and making a startled gasp.

"Someone's been in his mind." she informed them, solidifying her stance. "Who ever it was, is a real professional. They know what they're doing and barely left a trace of their manipulation. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear it was him. I think..I think..."

Mystique waited eagerly for Emma's answer. They were all looking for an answer to Charles's inexplicable tapping into a dark side she never could have believed existed. So naturally, before they could understand the situation, all hell broke loose.

Blonde twin number one appeared directly beside Magneto in what was likely an unintentional occurrence. Number two ended up seemingly right where she wanted, beside Angel and company keeping back from the pair of telepaths, a man at her elbow. A man in a black suit and white shirt underneath, stood beside her. A man with combed brown hair, defined cheekbones, and a very unsettled expression on his face.

Blonde number one, Anomaly, if Mystique was remembering that right, remedied his situation, shuffling away from Magneto to be closer to the telepaths. In effect, he moved nearer to where she was when he did, and that got her contemplating the methods of attack she could utilize on him. These two never seemed to do anything but undo whatever she was trying to, so it was only natural for her to have an inclination to not like them. The fact that they had the audacity to bring one Sebastian Shaw inexplicably from the past to their present, was horrifyingly increasing her now intense dislike of this pair of siblings.

They were all surprised, beyond surprised. Mystique immediately looked over to Magneto, who showed the most emotions out of any of them. Magneto usually only let anger show on the outside to his Brotherhood. In this moment, surprise, confusion, pain, fear, and anger all passed across his face. Mostly in his eyes though. He had always had very expressive eyes.

Everyone looked to Magneto to say something. His attention was drifting back over to Charles, noting the lack of recognition in his eyes. Then Charles locked eyes with Magneto and it was as though the confusion had lifted. He seemed completely focused and calm, like he'd been upon their initial arrival to the park. Mystique doubted this was a positive change.

She tried speaking to Charles in her mind, like they always did when they needed each other, needed to feel a deep, heartfelt connection.

_"Charles. Charles, I need you to hear me. I need you. Please, that's Shaw. You remember him. Remember how you stopped him to stop a war? You stopped him to save both humans and mutants. Saving people means so much to you. Remember. Hold on to that."_

She knew he'd heard her by the manner in which he inclined his head toward her, but then his eyes set themselves on Apocalypse, who'd taken it upon herself to introduce the man they all knew and couldn't believe they were seeing. Shaw was dead. This wasn't supposed to be. Damn time-travelers, muddling everything up. She'd really like to do some physical harm to that girl right now.

"Greetings! X, I see you're being distracted by old acquaintances. I thought it might be more efficient for you to align yourself with others. They can help you kill your enemies, the weaker mutants who don't deserve life. I bring you Sebastian Shaw."

X? Charles had called himself X. What was that all about? She'd given him the nickname of Professor X herself in what felt like a lifetime ago, but, somehow the way they were just saying X, sounded..wrong. Somehow it sounded bad.

"I'm sure you're wondering how he can be here now, alive. You shouldn't wonder. I am capable of traveling through time. I went to a day each of you remember very prominently. Cuba, the beach, that defining moment that severed a powerful relationship that could have done miracles." Apocalypse shrugged once. "Your loss, my gain. I pulled him to-"

"He disappeared," Magneto filled in suddenly. "I was going to kill him, Charles knew it. I had the coin in my grasp, and then, he vanished into thin air. How can I remember that, when I remember killing him, too? I remember that day in both ways, like they both happened. I remember when Shaw died, but I remember when he just disappeared, too. How is that possible?"

"Tell me about it."

Magneto snapped his mouth shut and glanced sharply at who had spoken, Shaw. The man continued to look..unsettled, for lack of a more accurate way to describe it.

"I remember dying, and I remember being tugged away from that submarine and through time to now as well."

Shaw looked around himself, seeing those he'd known as enemies and those he'd known as allies, all staring at him.

"So..this is a different time? When is it?"

Usually silent, it was Riptide who surprisingly was the first to speak directly to Shaw.

"1973. I did not think I would lay eyes upon you again."

Now it was Shaw's turn to act unnatural from everything Mystique had seen and heard about him those ten years ago. He glanced down and away, still looking unsettled. It was like the man was uncomfortable in his own skin.

"I brought him for you, X." Apocalypse explained. "Perhaps, Shaw, you can reignite your Hellfire Club, mold the world to something different. X, here, will be a brilliant asset."

Anomaly took his turn to speak. "What do you say about reuniting your team, Shaw? Go on. You have work to do."

Shaw shuffled in his place but only looked like the cocky, confident Sebastian Shaw they knew, when Charles moved to stand in front of him. He extended an arm until the somewhat befuddled man shook it.

"Your Hellfire Club has all the members if they'll come." Charles mentioned with a slight upturn of one side of his mouth. "Riptide, Azazel, Emma, and..even Angel." His attention scanned over the four he'd named. "Will you come?"

Magneto stared as Mystique did, wondering how this could be happening. How did Shaw suddenly enter into the picture and Charles, of all people, end up on his side? This was insane. This wasn't happening.

Erik seemed to agree. "Charles, what are you doing? That's Shaw you're standing next to. That's-"

He clamped his mouth shut when Emma walked over to stand with Charles and Shaw.

"To be at your side again, Shaw? Why not? I always did love power," she practically purred.

Mystique's mouth was gaping open. She didn't even care. This was not possible. She was especially not believing this when Riptide went to stand by Shaw, followed shortly by Angel, and then Azazel.

"Azazel!" she yelled to him before she could stop herself. This wasn't happening.

He looked at her directly, and she could see his eyes wide, trying to speak to her. She didn't understand it though. Why couldn't she know him enough to read his eyes? Only Charles had she ever known like that and now, now it was like he was a stranger.

"I believe whatever side Charles Xavier is on, is a smart choice, Myst."

She couldn't even find the strength to glare at him. She was too puzzled, too confused as to what was going on.

"Charles." Erik tried. "Charles, this is madness. How can you stand with Shaw? You know what he did to me, to so many others. He hates humans! He'll never see your world of peace come true."

"You don't even believe in that world, Erik. You don't believe in me."

"I..look, step away from them. Come stand over here. Or, or if not me, stand by your sister, okay? I need you to trust me."

Charles looked at him, straight in the eyes. "What was it you said about being at the mercy of those merely following orders? Ah yes? Because I certainly do."

"Please, Charles. Trust me." Erik pleaded, desperate and clearly afraid for her brother.

He nodded in Azazel's direction and they began to link together in preparation of being teleported elsewhere. His gaze lowered, returning to meet Erik's.

"Never again."

They disappeared, leaving Erik and Raven with the twins who'd just destroyed their attempt to reach Charles. Receiving smug looks from each of them, Mystique then watched them vanish also. And why shouldn't they go? They'd gotten what they came for. Charles, gone, becoming another who could never coexist with the real Charles, her Charles. It seemed the twins would get their damned future after all.

She sank to the grass, pulling her knees close to her chest, and began to sob, calling out for her brother in her mind like she always did when she was hurting and afraid. Raven forced her sobbing to quiet when she felt someone approach and Erik knelt down to take hold of her hand. Placing it between both of his own, he waited until she lifted her chin up to face him.

"Monica was wrong. Charles was not here."

Raven started to turn away when the tears wouldn't stop, but Erik placed fingers under her chin to tilt her head up gently. She let him and met determined eyes, not even realizing she'd slipped into her regular blonde girl looking appearance until just then.

"It is good, we know him so well. I know just where to find him."

Swallowing hard, she felt something warm blossoming in her chest. Was this hope?


	6. Missions

**Chapter Five**

**Missions**

_Chicago, Illinois_

Marcus Smith stood outside the Federal Reserve Bank, widely grinning at the dozens of federal agents and local police officers surrounding the building. Granite and Blink flanked him on either side, while Nightmare and Truth finished up their jobs inside. Truth was busy working her magic with the bank employees, while Nightmare kept everyone who she didn't need coherent, babbling and weeping with the visions of terror he conjured into their minds.

His people knew what they needed to do. They would succeed or his usefulness for them would run out. Now he had only to wait for the inevitable stupidity of puny regulars and their escape route would be secure. He took a step forward, at least a dozen guns coming up to fire on him. He was testing the waters.

Scanning the crowd of onlookers greedily searching for some entertainment in the form of an in-progress bank robbery, he continued to grin. Several news channels had finally arrived. It was time to give the signal. Slowly, he raised up his arms to proclaim his message to the people, without having the foolish police shoot him before he was ready.

"Citizens of Chicago, my name is Marcus Smith," he called out to everyone gathered. "But I have a new name. My name now is Shield. You see, I have been reborn. Myself and those who follow me, who believe what I believe, we call ourselves Reapers. Reapers, because we reap more to our cause. Our cause is to create a new world, one where those chosen will live as kings!"

His gaze landed on a brave young woman with the gall to push past one of the police barricades briefly in order to shout a question out to him.

"Mr. Smith, can you respond to recent allegations that your people have been pulling random citizens from the Chicago area off the street, looking to further your agenda by brainwashing them into spreading your message for a new world designed for chosen ones?"

"Can I respond? I speak now, that if you have heard from anyone, then it is proof this world will come to be. We have traveled across Britain and America, to spread word of what we seek to accomplish. Those spreading the word have seen our power and know we will do what we've set out to. We _will_ make a new world. We _will_ crush the weak and give power and wealth to the strong. If you are mutant, join us. In this new world of ours, you will be rulers, leaders, and gods. Mutant is power. Mutants are gods. Mutants are the future, the rest are just..chaff."

The reporter was being yelled at, getting shoved back behind the barrier between the police and the onlookers, yet she managed one final question to him.

"Mr. Smith! The American government has claimed for years that mutants aren't real, despite numerous eye-witness reports stating otherwise. Are you saying mutants exist? Are you one of them?"

He grinned from ear to ear before toning down his glee, shifting about to get in a good view of his captive audience.

"I am mutant." He shoved his cape aside as he began to stroll about the bank entrance, unnerving the regulars training their weapons on him. "All my followers are mutant as of present. Your choice is simple. Be exterminated, or follow my lead."

He spun and swung his arms forward and to his side, fully intending to appear hostile. They did not disappoint him. At least half a dozen of the guns trained on him opened fire. The bullets flew at him and suddenly deflected while yet several full inches away from touching him. The projectiles flew through the air back towards the police officers and bystanders. He hadn't even lifted a finger. There was a reason he called himself Shield.

Several officers went down, along with a man amongst the crowd, screams ringing out everywhere. Some of the crowd started to disperse in fright, while the officers stood ready to fire while looking uncertain whether they should. They really shouldn't.

He smiled at them with pure delight. He did so love his violence. He thoroughly enjoyed terror as well and as Nightmare emerged from the bank, weighted down by bags of money, Marcus gestured toward Granite's direction.

"Let's show these people our power."

Nightmare smirked at him and practically tossed his bags at his ally, eager to display his skills. Placing his hands to either side of his head, he let the smirk fade in order to concentrate. He settled into a squatting position and closed his eyes. Less than a minute later, the first of the screams began. Cries for help and panic-induced shouting and running started soon after. Some people just curled themselves onto the ground, while others fled wildly in whatever random direction they deemed would somehow save them from the horrific images being projected into their heads.

"Dead bodies?" he asked his fellow mutant.

His man managed a weak smile, half of his mouth upturning briefly before dropping back into a firm line of concentration and focus. He did answer. They obeyed him always.

"I got creative. Dragons are attacking, tearing people to shreds and setting buildings on fire."

Marcus laughed. "Beautiful!"

Blink moved up to his side. "Granite's got our new funding. Let's go."

Granite led the way with the money, Blink just behind, Truth moving to a position at his side, while Nightmare took up the rear. He required close proximity to his targets so he'd need to keep back until they made it to their transportation out of the area.

Making a sharp turn down the third alley in a row, they were a decent enough distance away. He placed his hand on Nightmare's shoulder and the man immediately opened his eyes, his hold on the large number of people released. Exhausted by the exertion of power, Truth moved from Marcus's side to his, helping him stay upright.

Another turn and their vehicle was in sight. So were a set of men in black suits and sunglasses. Federal agents of some sort perhaps. They looked ridiculously stereotypical. They must have skill of a useful kind to locate their method of transport so quickly.

He pushed through his people and approached the men first. "Who are you and what do you want? Answer now, my patience wears thin."

The two glanced at one another and then one of them opened the front passenger door for a third man in a suit. At least this man wasn't wearing the absurd sunglasses. It was a cloudy Thursday.

"Am I correct in assuming you're the one known as Shield, leader of the Reapers?"

He frowned. He didn't feel like playing games. "I suspect you already know the answer to your own question. Don't waste my time."

"I can appreciate a man who prefers getting straight to business. My name is Agent Adam Adams. This here is Agent Jones and Agent Carter."

"FBI?"

"NSA, actually. We got a lot more intel. and a lot more toys. The vests you happened to acquire of your own accord, those are our making."

He solidified his stance while Granite dropped the bags, shifting to rock form. They were ready for a fight. He hoped for a fight.

"And I suppose you've come to reclaim your property?" Marcus guessed.

Agent Adams scoffed at the suggestion, laughing and placing his hands on his hips. "No, no, not at all. In fact I appreciate your initiative to use offense in favor of your own defense. I assure you, I am not your enemy."

He narrowed his eyes but he was listening. "Go on."

"I don't speak for the NSA, but for myself and a handful of agents that work under my command. We'd like to propose a potential alliance between us."

He laughed himself. "Why would I align with you? What could you possibly do for me?"

"Besides the vests you mean?"

He raised an eyebrow at him. "No, I haven't forgotten. And?"

"You will find those vests are very special. Useful against many special people."

"You mean mutants."

"I do."

"So you're developing technology to be used against mutants, and you think this is something I would approve of?"

"I do."

He tilted his head partway to the side. "Oh?"

Agent Adams let his arms hang at his sides and a small smile came over his face. "You've been making a name for yourself and your Reapers as supporters of a new world order. In this new world, you've made it quite clear that you don't discriminate between mutants and humans. You prefer mutants, but it's the loyalty and usefulness of any individual that you care about. Be exterminated or follow your lead, am I right?"

Marcus shifted, impatient. The police were idiots but they'd find them eventually. They weren't yet far enough away from the bank to be secure.

"Perhaps this could work, but you have to convince me."

"Oh, I believe I know just how to do that." He turned and called out to persons unseen. "You can come out now."

A rather young man, early 20's at most, dark-skinned and alert looking, came around from the other side of the vehicle they'd planned to use for their escape out of the city. A man and woman, appearing to be in their mid 20's and 30's respectively, followed just behind him. Standing side by side, the three regarded the five opposite of themselves. Marcus and his four regarded the three in turn.

"Meet Shiva, Surge, and Fenrir. Shiva's from Russia, capable of creating and controlling the water element. She's a hell of a powerful creature to witness. Beautiful, isn't she?"

The black haired woman, long hair streaming down her back, greeted them shortly. She spoke English clearly but the Russian accent remained thick and present. Marcus got the impression right away that this woman was cocky, confident, and had every reason to be. He couldn't wait to see what she could do.

Surge and Fenrir were introduced next. A man who could manipulate electricity and one who could shapeshift into various animal forms. The shapeshifter's preference was as a wolf, hence the codename he'd taken for himself. The NSA didn't do real names for the allies they didn't keep on paper. Also, probably because everything they were doing concerning Shield's group was not even close to legitimate.

"For me?" Marcus wondered, the beginnings of a smile growing on his face.

"Yes," Agent Adams informed him smugly. "They are. I believe this is going to be a splendid mutual exchange."

"What is it you want from me?"

"A blood sample from each of you would be much appreciated."

He hesitated, but only for a moment. Whatever was done with his blood, or any of their blood, it wouldn't matter once the world was under his control.

"I believe we have an accord. Long live the Reapers, who will live as kings among the remnants of the world's ashes. Mutants are the future."

Agent Adams only smiled.

_Westchester County, New York_

"Are you all right?"

Shaw grunted in response to Azazel's slight concern for his well-being. It was the only answer he was going to give. He would not be seen as weak, especially by his subordinates.

They each of them had done little more than wait around for several hours in an incredibly expansive guest bedroom. The mansion belonged to Xavier's family and had been turned into a school for mutants. A school the founder had ceased participating in of late. From everything he knew about the powerful telepath, Shaw could see he'd changed. Why they'd come here of all the possibilities was a curiosity.

Upon their arrival, the telepath had walked out, leaving Shaw to readjust to being alive and pushed ten years into the future, along with his companions who were clearly struggling to adjust to the return of their previous leader. Emma was tapping her fingers on the panes of one of the large windows, staring outside at the rain. She knew better than to dare enter Shaw's mind without permission, so he held no worry for it happening. Azazel and Riptide alternated from standing tall or sitting stiffly in the pair of armchairs available in the ridiculously large bedroom, while his newest recruit practically hid herself at the farthest corner of the room.

Could he really call any of them his followers anymore? A decade wasn't long for him, since he didn't age like most people, but for the average person, ten years was a lot of time to go by. The young brother and sister who'd taken him from the submarine and through an incredibly agonizing traverse through time into 1973, had told him some details of what he'd be arriving to. They told him how important Charles was to the future and that he could work with him to alter the world. They'd also told him how his followers had switched to following Erik of all people. The man was calling himself Magneto now, running a group called the Brotherhood. He was for mutants only, like Shaw was, but he knew Erik would never work under him. He'd killed the man's mother after all.

Finally he voiced what he thought about this entire situation. They'd always counted on him to be honest and forthcoming at the very least. He could do that.

"I don't trust the intentions of the time-travelers."

Emma immediately perked up from her spot at the window, turning around to face him and the rest of the restless occupants in the room.

"You shouldn't. That girl is powerful so I only got a few brief glimpses, but she comes from a future where mutants and humans are near extinct, and she wants to keep it that way."

"What about the telepath? Did you get a read on his behavior? Seems bizarre to me, though I guess I never really met the guy before."

"I don't think you've met him now." Angel shared.

His eyes swiveled to her and she practically folded in on herself in response to the attention. When he waited for her to explain herself, and she didn't, he looked away in annoyance. Emma seemed the only one worth conversation at the moment, as she filled the silence with more information for him to contemplate.

"I already told everyone else, in their minds before we came here, but we are not switching sides. I'm sorry Shaw, but Erik is a good leader. He has his faults, but he sticks by us and we need him."

He had a lot of thoughts to that but he let it go. He truly wondered about Erik. When last he'd seen the man before he'd so violently been thrust into the time he now was in, Erik had confessed he had Shaw to thank for who he'd become. The sole wedge between them apparently only being his mother's death. If that didn't scream the man had mental issues, he didn't know what did. Shaw tortured and experimented on little Erik Lehnsherr, and that didn't upset him? Hmph, it spoke of a conflicted mind without a doubt. It explained why he'd allied himself with a telepath who'd built a school for their kind. Erik wanted to change the future, he just hadn't made up his mind on how exactly it should be done.

Though he knew she was not reading his mind, she might as well have been from what she voiced next.

"And he needs Charles, the real Charles, even if he won't admit it to himself."

"The man that came with us here, he is not the real Charles Xavier?"

"That's complicated. If I could get into his head, maybe I could tell you. Right now though...I don't know enough." A pause, and then she added, "You seem different yourself."

He looked at her, warningly. "That's enough on the small talk. How many are in this house?"

Her eyes went distant for a few brief moments before returning to look at him. "Seven, all mutants, in various parts of the mansion. Charles is running. Looks like he went for a jog."

Potential new recruits was the initial thought that crossed his mind. When he felt nothing about that thought, he got a little angry. He'd always wanted a future with mutants in power, but even when he thought about it consciously, he couldn't bring himself to care. What the hell had those twins done to him? He'd never felt so unmotivated to be in charge and molding people and reality into what he desired. He wished they hadn't shown him what they had. Sometimes it was better not knowing.

Shaw chose to focus his thoughts elsewhere. "The telepath determined to change the world through brute force and considerable power of his own, went for a jog?"

"Might be to clear his head." Emma guessed. "Might have to do with his long inability to walk, let alone run, now gone. I don't dare try to pry into his mind. He wouldn't like that. He's been, unbalanced in how he behaves recently."

So the telepath had lost the ability to walk at some point, then got it back? That was interesting. He felt he needed personal time with this Charles Xavier.

"Emma, call the telepath here."

"Charles? Why?"

He gave her a look. She did as he asked and he said nothing to the other three, who were now appearing more alert and curious as to what was going on. If they knew what he was planning, Charles would surely read it off of at least one of them. Shaw could keep what he wanted private unless a telepath really dug in, so in most cases he'd require Emma, or the helmet Erik now wore. Emma could defend against most telepathy, but if he focused enough, Shaw suspected he'd get into at least one mind and the element of surprise would be lost. He needed defense and he needed surprise.

Charles took his time in coming, showering and changing back to his clothing from before. When he entered the bedroom, his hair was still damp, and he was clean-shaven, hair cut much shorter. It made him look younger, a lot actually, and harmless, too. His eyes were still as blue as ever though, searching the room until they found Emma.

He used the momentary distraction to approach Charles, and as soon as he turned to face him, he acted.

"Hi."

Charles's eyes widened as he realized his intent but it didn't save him. Surprise was a telepath's weak spot when it could be managed. He pushed his hand flat against the man's chest with minimal force. The energy that surged from his fingers was anything but minimal, however, and it sent the other flying across the room. His mutation allowed him to expend energy without much effort at all. If he absorbed enough outside energy, he could really do some real damage. The man should be grateful he didn't use any of that energy on him.

He walked quickly over to him, feeling the tendrils of invisible fingers working to wrap about his mind, and placed two fingers to the man on the ground's cheek. The force he used was intended only to snap Charles's head to the side like he'd been slapped, hard. A bruise already began to form. Then he wasted no time in doing the same touches to different spots of his chest and abdomen until the attempt at manipulating his mind dissipated. The pain was distracting him enough to not be able to use his ability, as he'd expected.

"Hey! Stop!"

He recognized the voice. It was Erik, come to find his dear friend who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. The indignant cry was abruptly followed by a more feminine one.

"Don't you touch him!"

Shaw resisted the urge to roll his eyes at their outbursts and waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the doorway where they stood. He could sense there were other mutants behind them in the hall. Perhaps the other mutants living in this house come to finally realize their master was home and unwell. Not the most observant of students apparently.

"I'm helping him."

A low chuckle emerged from the man under his hands on the ground. "Is that what you're doing?"

This time when he grabbed hold of Charles's shoulders, it was without utilizing his power. He lifted the man under the arms and dragged him toward the bed. Shaw froze when he felt the tickling on his brain as it forced him to stop moving. Enough work on his ability and he would be an unbeatable weapon.

An audible sigh from Erik and Shaw managed to watch him walking over to them from where he could move his eyes to look. As soon as he started to grab hold of Charles himself, and Charles realized he couldn't control him with the helmet on, Shaw found his frozen state released with a frustrated growl from the telepath as it happened. Together, he and Erik got Charles onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" he demanded of them.

Erik stared worriedly down at his friend and then looked to Shaw, who seemed to be the only one knowing what he was doing. Shaw filled in the questioning stares of a fair amount of mutants congregating in the room.

"I know a monster when it's been created. Different from one of its own making. I've certainly made enough of them myself." His gaze automatically shifted across the bed to Erik before looking back down at Charles. "So tell me, who are you?"

Charles lay on the bed, seeming quite comfortable and at ease. Considering the two powerful mutants staring down at him, it was not an expected reaction. In fact, he wasn't showing an ounce of fear, until Emma Frost approached the bed. When she approached, he started to squirm. When Shaw smiled at his obvious discomfort, he quickly let it slip off with Erik's intense glare at seeing such a thing.

Emma placed her hand on his forehead and dove into his mind. Much to Erik's clear objection, Shaw methodically applied pain to the telepath's chest and stomach to keep him from using his power against any of them. A few minutes later and the female telepath was backing off.

"When I said someone not from this time has changed you, I didn't mean the blonde twins on the outside."

"What are you talking about?" Charles demanded with much annoyance.

His eyes were following Shaw's fingers, which were no longer causing him pain but already had proven they could do so with ease. A snap of her fingers and his gaze shifted up to her.

"I mean someone's actually been inside your mind, altered memories and beliefs so you'd be more..malleable to their intentions."

He frowned. "Intentions to what precisely?"

"To form you into the ultimate weapon and loose you on the world."

"That.." Charles visibly deflated, looking even younger than he already did. "Sounds right."

"What?"

It was more than a few of them who said it, surprised he was agreeing with her assessment. Fortunately, he saw fit to explain.

"Sometimes I feel fine, like normal. Then sometimes I don't feel like me at all. I'm not me. I don't know..what this is."

"I do."

He sat up to better look at Emma, Erik and Shaw giving him some room so he could do it. "You do?"

"Someone with extremely talented telepathy has been in your mind and barely left a trace. Would you let me help you?"

"What can you do for me?"

"I can fix you. I can undo the damage. Unbury the good memories that were pushed down, erase any false memories that may have been implanted."

"How would you know which of his memories are false?" Erik inquired.

He didn't appear comfortable with what Emma was proposing. It was a valid question, one which Shaw found fascinating to hear the answer to. She explained there was a feeling, a signature almost, left in a person's mind when a telepath meddled. Most intriguing.

"If you do this, I won't do what I've been doing? I won't feel the urge to hurt other mutants anymore?"

"Yes."

"Raven?" He searched about the room until she came into sight, hurrying over to him and sitting up onto the bed and against his side. "Raven, will you stay with me?"

"Of course I will. I'm here, Charles."

Shaw took this little display of affection in and then spoke up. "I'm staying to ensure Charles behaves for Emma here. The rest of you, get out. There's no need of your watching this."

"I'm staying as well."

No surprise there that Erik would want to stay with his precious telepath.

"No, I don't want-"

"No. This isn't a discussion. I don't want you alone with Emma and Shaw."

Emma actually looked hurt about that. They had been on the same side for a long time after all so it made sense. The blonde girl, Raven, also appeared pretty annoyed, like she'd been forgotten.

"He's not alone." Raven reminded.

"I will stay." Erik said one more time and positioned himself more comfortably on the bed near the prone telepath's head.

Charles was trying to look at him, even as everyone began to file out of the room, but then Emma was diving back into his mind. Such an assault took up all of his concentration and Shaw watched, admittedly with morbid fascination, wishing he could see what she did.

It took nearly an entire day before she pulled back out of the telepath's mind, and when she did, she looked positively exhausted. Charles had fallen unconscious hours ago from the strain put on his mind, and Raven, hadn't let up on her tight hold of Charles's hand throughout it all.

"He's him. It's done. It wasn't easy. Who ever did it was at it for over a week, slipping thoughts and ideas in, pushing down any good thoughts he might have. I've never seen anything like it. The manipulation was near undetectable. Telepaths, they leave major tracks behind in a person's mind if they're not adept enough to conceal the invasion. Like I said before, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was him who did it."

The words out, Emma rolled onto the other side of the bed and promptly fell asleep. She really did look worn and spent. Shaw watched her breathe softly in and out for a moment, before moving away from the bed. This drew Erik's attention from the telepath to him, though he didn't do well to hide that he would much rather be focused on Charles.

"So you're alive."

Shaw smiled at him smugly. "How do you feel about that?"

When Erik looked away, back down to Charles, he sighed. It seemed he wouldn't be getting a rise out of the other man today. Might as well give him something.

"I know you have little reason to believe me, but I am not the same."

Erik snorted. "You expect me to believe that at all?"

"My beliefs are the same, but I have seen what will come of them if I keep on the way I have always kept on."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's seen the future where he wins and it isn't good."

Charles said this with his eyes still closed. He peeled them open, lids heavy with exhaustion as he tiredly looked upwards, eyes not really focusing on anything.

"Charles!" Raven squeezed his hand tighter.

He smiled weakly at her as she snuggled up to his side. "Hey trouble."

She returned his smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like..like I can see again. It's like a veil's been lifted from my eyes."

Shaw found a chair and sat down, eyes taking in the affectionate scene before him. He didn't usually find himself in situations like these. He didn't normally find himself pushed through time either. This was an uncommon period in his life for certain.

"Tired." Charles shared.

"Rest."

It was Erik who ordered him to do that. The telepath wasted no time in listening. He closed his eyes and slept soundly. Raven soon joined him in sleep while Erik kept himself awake, watching over the sleeping pair, continuing to sit on the unconscious man's other side. Shaw contemplated trying to unnerve or upset the conscious man by staring at him. Instead, he decided on getting some rest himself. Traveling through time had not been pleasant in the slightest, and it had shaken him. He let his eyes slip closed, wondering what he'd been dragged into by the twins. Whatever happened, he stood by his own.


	7. Nightmares

**Chapter Six**

**Nightmares**

_Westchester County, New York_

Hank finally wandered out of his private laboratory about three in the morning. He hadn't been able to sleep. None of them had. He found his friends in a sitting room on the third floor, just below the fourth floor where the..visitors were residing. Charles was on that floor with them. It struck them all as odd that he was up there, surrounded by those technically designated as their enemies. It struck Hank as strange that they were allowing it.

He supposed Raven had a lot to do with that, or rather Mystique, as she'd been going by these years. He trusted she would never let harm come to her brother. Sean believed that, too. Now Alex, he didn't trust her so much anymore, and he certainly didn't trust Angel, who'd surprisingly opted to join them in their waiting to see if Charles could be fixed. Whether whatever was wrong with him was something that could be fixed, Hank prayed hourly about.

Aki had fallen asleep on one of the couches beside Sarah, who was drifting in and out of consciousness herself. Hank found Tom, Alex and Angel to be anything but sleepy. They were staring at each other on and off, he observed with much amusement from the doorway where he hesitated before entering. They all of them wore almost matching scrunched up faces of confusion and concern. He wondered what Angel could be so worried about. She didn't care about Charles, right?

He acquired himself a seat by the doorway and regarded his sole conscious friend in the room.

"Any news about the professor?"

Tom let out a tired sigh, rubbing his eyes and glancing over a final time at Angel before responding.

"The wind-maker came down a couple hours ago with that intimidating as hell devil looking guy. Said their telepath went in his mind and found signs someone had been messing with him, altering his thoughts and feelings. She corrected the professor's mind. Thinks she did anyway. She'd better have."

"What? How? How could someone get into the professor's mind and he not realize it? Of all people!"

Tom shrugged, but though the act was a careless one, the shine to his eyes told Hank he cared very deeply for Charles. He was concerned because if Professor Xavier could be gotten to, any one of them could easily fall victim next. It was a valid concern, one Hank shared in.

None of them had any answers, only more questions.

"Where did they go?"

"Who?"

"Magneto's-or-Shaw's people-or, ugh, I don't know. Azazel and Riptide, the two you said were here before, where did they get off to?"

Another shrug. Oh sheesh, Tom needed to snap out of his depression and worry over the professor in order to be a tad more productive. It was a tough situation, with the professor acting so out of character of late, so he could give some leeway tonight he supposed. He didn't really want to though. Oh, thank God, his good friend did have some kind of answer after all.

"They went back upstairs. I told them about the spare bedroom next to the one the professor and the others are in that they could use to get some sleep."

"So now we're housing the enemy." Alex muttered. "What's next?"

Hank wasn't certain he wanted to know the answer to that. He hadn't the foggiest idea of what was going to happen next.

Magneto sat across from Charles, pushing a piece forward, certain of his impending victory over his opponent. Leaning back in his chair, he struggled to adjust the cape so it felt a little more comfortable in his seated position. He never seemed to find a satisfactory level of comfort when in his old friend's presence. Glancing down at the board and then further, at himself, he noticed he was wearing his armor, too. That was odd. He didn't ever feel the need to wear chest armor with Charles.

"You knew to find me here. You were right. The school did still matter to me, even with my mind so changed."

"How are you, Charles?"

He sighed, moving one of his own chess pieces across the board and didn't respond. That was most unusual. Charles loved to hear himself talk. Instead, he looked distracted, closing his eyes and running his hands through his hair like he was struggling with its presence.

Magneto found himself most displeased when his friend changed the subject.

"We're human, too, you know. We're humans with mutations. Still, very much human."

"Have it your way," he replied with a roll of his eyes. "We're humans, too, and humans, are prone to violence. I seek to prevent their violence against us, for when mankind fully learns of our existence, they will hate us, fear us, discriminate against us."

He was looking back at Charles, who had yet to open his eyes. Charles was all about the eye contact. Where was it now? Perhaps it was the helmet. He knew he hated the helmet, probably because it defined him as his new self, as Magneto, leader of the Brotherhood of mutants. Still, Charles wasn't the type to pass up an opportunity to try and counsel him or change his mind. Maybe he'd given up on him.

"So you choose to divide, in your attempt to conquer the human race?"

Magneto smiled. "It's said divide and conquer often leads to victory."

"Yes, but, many of the big nations who won through conquest also lost their reign after what is to be considered a short span of time for any reign. The victories won by unifying and maintaining, however, have lasted for much, much longer."

The smile dropped from his face. Charles always had a reply to everything. Narrowing his eyes slightly in his growing frustration, he forgot about the game and stared hard at the other until his eyes opened to meet his.

"Why are you so willing to fight for the humans?"

He didn't think he was going to get an answer, not when he glanced to his right and found Emma and Shaw standing together over by the window. They were facing away from the window, watching the two of them. Had they been there the entire time? It seemed somehow improbable he wouldn't have noticed them earlier. His attention returned to Charles when he answered regardless of their audience.

"Because I'm a part of this world!"

Erik swung his head toward the doorway, then his audience, and back at Charles. He was surprised at the sudden raise in volume. He didn't sound angry though, just frustrated. Erik could relate. Charles sounded stressed, too. Strange. He was very skilled at remaining calm and composed. What was this all about?

"And so are you." Charles continued, voice softening. "Why don't you stand for them? You come from them. They don't deserve your disdain."

He frowned. He didn't know what to say to that. It felt like he had the same discussion with Charles over and over. Ten years later and they were still where they were in 1962 on that beach. He'd hoped things would have progressed by now.

"You think that because you have power you have the right to rule, to make decisions that could harm people. But that's exactly what tyrants think. You know what it's like to live under the rule of a tyrant. You would be as they were? Do as they did?"

Slowly he shook his head. "No, I'd be better."

"What was that you quoted to me not so long ago, about best intentions?"

Any response Magneto had been preparing was halted at that. His mouth snapped closed again. Hm..okay so that was a solid point. But he was still right. He had to be. Charles just didn't understand why he needed to keep fighting. He needed to make sure mutants everywhere were safe and held a place in the world worthy of them.

Charles was on a roll in sharing his wisdom.

"You let your rage get the better of you all the time. You can control metal and magnetic fields. Don't you understand how dangerous that can be?"

"Of course. It's my strength. I-"

Erik stopped talking when Charles started gripping the table, as though suddenly finding it difficult to sit there in his seat. He managed to say something despite his sudden and obvious discomfort.

"I'm a telepath who can control minds. Can you imagine what would happen if I lost control?"

"Charles, are you all right?"

Magneto sensed movement over by the window. Emma was sliding to a seated position, head in her hands. What was that all about? He noted Shaw was looking down at her, but he made no movement to help her. There was probably nothing he could do anyway. His frown was for Shaw now. The man seemed shaken up and uncomfortable all the time since he'd been pulled from the moment just before death, just before revenge could be exacted. It was a peculiar thing, to remember killing the man, but also remember being about to kill him when he disappeared. Both could not have happened in the past, yet he remembered both scenarios. That was improbable, impossible really. He was beginning to feel very strongly time should never be meddled with at all. He thought about killing Shaw again.

Charles groaned and closed his eyes briefly, drawing Erik's attention back to him. It made him think about his relationship with this man, what could have been and what wasn't anymore. It made him think about the stark reality. The helmet weighed heavier than usual on his head. The frustration grew inside, like an angry curling twist inside of his stomach.

"You've been in my mind. You see into most any mind you meet. But you, you stay hidden. I don't know anything about you!"

Well damn, so much for him remaining calm. He was impressed. One moment he'd been considering murder, and now he had Charles on the mind once again. Charles was a wonder.

"You know a lot."

And he was also a total idiot.

"But not everything, right?"

"Well, I suspect here will be your chance. I've been in your mind, and now you've been in mine."

Magneto didn't understand what that meant. He avoided looking at Charles's eyes, opting instead to glance toward the window as he responded with questions and an observation.

"Are you fixed? Do you no longer hate mutants? You seem back to your usual self."

"I think I'm fixed. I feel right, but, I don't know. This past week has been very confusing for me. It's good I'm finally sleeping. I'll be able to think straight."

He startled in his seat, catching the wording. "Sleeping? You're sleeping? But if you're sleeping..."

"So are you, yes. So are they."

Emma seemed to find this the perfect time to enter into the conversation. "I suspected as much. I tried to wake myself up but couldn't. You've brought us into your dream."

Charles nodded. "He wouldn't let me wake. The only perceivable manner in keeping everyone safe was to bring them in, including him." He frowned at Erik and the helmet resting on his head. "You're not real. You can't be here. Not with that helmet on."

It was Erik's turn to frown because he certainly felt present. He wasn't sure what that was saying though, since he hadn't the slightest idea this was a dream. It had felt so real. Now that he realized it wasn't real, some of the oddities made sense. Like how he got here, sitting across from Charles playing chess. He couldn't remember how he got there. Charles had been asleep. He'd sat at Charles's side watching him sleep.

"But I'm here." Erik pointed out. "Somehow your power worked on me anyway."

The other man disagreed. "You overestimate my ability. I can't do that. He must have."

"Who?"

"The intruder."

"What intruder?"

When his question went unanswered, he asked again.

"Charles? What intruder?"

"I pulled him into my dream, along with everyone in the house, when I felt him enter the property. Somehow, he must have managed to bring you in, too. That's probably not a good thing. I brought everyone into my head to protect them, but if he went to the trouble of bypassing your helmet to get you in along with the rest of us, he must think he can kill us here."

"How could he do that?"

"That I'm not certain about."

"Impressive. I knew you were powerful."

Magneto glanced at Shaw. It was the first time he'd heard him sound like the Shaw he knew far too well, the Shaw he very much would like to see dead. It would alienate Charles from him even further if he killed the man though. That would be a problem.

Charles's face was all scrunched up again, and his behavior suddenly made sense. He was concentrating, utilizing his power to keep them asleep, and perhaps, to track this aforementioned intruder. He stood abruptly when Charles did.

"Charles? What is it?"

A crack of lightning and a rumble of thunder sounded throughout the room. Rain began to pour down in sheets against the large windows. Charles paled and that was saying something since the man was already considerably light in skin tone.

"Charles?"

Deep blue eyes met his own gaze. "Find the others. He's stronger than me. I'm trying to hold him. Go."

"Charles."

"Hurry!"

He blinked when Charles disappeared from the spot he'd been standing in. He looked over at Emma and Shaw, his apparent allies for the time being. He trusted Emma enough; they'd built a rapport over the years. As for Shaw, well he could go-

"Dreams are a funny thing." Emma shared. "Hard to predict what might happen. Even though this is Charles's dream, he can't control what he'll dream about."

"Right. Well let's find the others."

Emma smiled, far too smug and content for their present situation, actually leaning on Shaw like the old days. "Yes, let's."

When Azazel and Riptide entered the room to join the rest of them in their sitting and waiting for whatever was to happen next, it woke Sarah, who sat herself up. She stared bleary eyed at them for a moment, but they merely regarded her briefly before joining their friend still sitting at the back of the room. Sean and Alex straightened in their seats and noticeably tensed. She knew it was because they'd seen the pair of them in action and therefore must know how dangerous they could be.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she peeked over her shoulder in their direction. When she turned back to face forward, she found Tom watching her. She gave him a tight smile and tilted her head towards the three labeled as her enemies, though she'd never been in any direct conflict with them. She only knew they worked for Magneto's cause and used to work for Shaw. Sebastian Shaw, a man saved from death to be used against them. That plan hadn't worked out so well for the young brother and sister who insisted on causing so much trouble for mutants. Wait... How did she know that? She didn't remember being told any of that, yet she knew it to be true.

She blinked. There was a blonde haired girl asleep on the couch opposite her. Had she been there the whole time? She couldn't have been. Wait..she recognized her from pictures. This was the professor's sister. A rustling noise came from the cushion beside her and she found Aki's big brown eyes staring upwards.

"Nan desu ka?"

She shook her head and shrugged, bidding him good morning. "Ohayou gozaimasu."

He sat up and gave her a confused look. "Konbanwa."

What did he mean good evening? She glanced out the window and saw it was indeed dark outside, rain pounding the window. How did she miss that? There was thunder and lightning, too. Loud. That had to have just started.

"Sumimasen. Genki desu ka?"

Aki ignored her question as to how he was, instead choosing to stand and look around the room.

"Mayotte shimaimashita."

"What are you talking about, Aki? You're not lost."

Their conversation had peaked everyone's interest, including the three guests to their home. They remained over at the far side of the room, but they were visibly listening.

"Hai. Watashi wa shimaimashita."

"What's he saying?" the one known as Riptide asked.

She climbed to her feet herself. "I don't know. He's saying he's lost. I don't understand."

"Wakarimasen."

He shook his head at her again. Then gestured around at the room in general.

"All. Lost."

Sarah understood a little bit more. "He's saying we're all lost."

The only one left sleeping awoke with a start, eyes wide and frantic. Sarah could swear she saw her skin shimmer from blue back to normal for a second or two. Charles's sister, Raven was the name she recalled, ran over to the window. After peering out into the darkness and the raging storm, she turned to survey the occupants of the room. Passing over her three allies in the corner, she scanned over Sarah, Aki, and finally Alex, Tom, Sean, and Hank. She settled on the sometimes furry blue one of their bunch. The only genius level one of them, too.

"Where's Charles?"

When no one answered her, not even Hank, she persisted. "Where's my brother? Where is he?"

"Sleeping upstairs I think." Hank replied, attempting to sooth her. "He's recovering from the manipulation done to his mind."

"Charles doesn't like thunderstorms."

"Wait, weren't you with him?" Tom questioned.

Sarah crossed her arms over her stomach. "You were. That's right. I knew you hadn't been here before. How'd you get here?"

Raven frowned and crossed her own arms uncomfortably in front of herself. "I..don't remember. I was sleeping next to Charles, then I woke up here."

She let her arms drop to her side and stared out the window at the storm. Sarah wasn't quite sure if she had been forgotten or not. Raven seemed rather distracted.

"He hates thunderstorms. I should find him."

"Why?"

Raven visibly jumped at the sudden introduction of a new voice to the room. Sarah recognized the man standing in the doorway as Magneto. She also knew his name was Erik Lehnsherr, because Charles refused to call him by any other name when it could be done. Sebastian Shaw and Emma Frost were with him. That was weird.

"How do I know all of your names?"

She'd wondered out loud. She didn't know what was going on. Sarah wanted to know. As a person who sometimes had premonitions, she usually knew what was going on before it happened. Lately her ability had been less than regular, but right now, it felt completely absent. It was like a part of her was missing. She didn't like the feeling. She just wanted to know something.

"Am I the only one who inexplicably knows things about what's been going on lately that I was never directly told?"

"No, even if everyone has not realized yet, we're all like that because we're in a dream, sweetie."

Sarah looked at Emma. "What does that mean?"

"There's an intruder on the grounds. Charles pulled us into his dream in an attempt to protect us. Either it'll work or it'll get us all killed because we're not awake to defend ourselves."

Well that was a crude explanation to be told to them when they were being informed of a potentially dire situation. While everyone in the room took this new information in, Erik or Magneto, didn't seem to care. He was still eying Raven. Waiting for his answer perhaps?

"Mystique, why is Charles afraid of thunderstorms?"

She stared back at her leader and told him what she knew he wouldn't want to hear. "I can't tell you."

"Mystique." Her name was spoken firmly. He definitely wanted an answer.

Raven was shaking her head back and forth rapidly. "No."

He gave her a look and she stared just as stubbornly in return, raising her voice to him. "He wouldn't want you to know!"

Magneto looked pissed but Sarah was impressed at how much the young woman stuck by her brother. Intriguing when this was the same girl who'd sided with a violent man in the hopes of seeing mutants accepted in the world. What the... It was like her own thoughts and someone else's thoughts and knowledge were intermixing in her head. Charles's thoughts maybe.

Sarah decided this was getting nowhere. "Should we try to find Charles?"

"Watashi to issho ni kite kudesai." Aki said, heading for the door, apparently not at all intimidated by the presence of Magneto standing in his way.

Gutsy kid. Should probably reprimand him for such thinking later. When they were..actually awake. That sounded so odd. She was walking and talking and moving around, in someone else's dream! Bizarre seemed too simplistic of a word for what was happening right now.

"He wants us to go with him," she translated to the others.

She followed after her very good friend without hesitation. Whether or not the others did the same was of no concern of hers. She trusted him. Just barely, she managed to hear multiple sets of footsteps behind her in the nearly pitch black hallway. At least some of them had chosen to follow, maybe everyone. Again, it wasn't her concern. She had settled on keeping Aki's back in sight so she wouldn't lose him.

It wasn't long before she saw a light up ahead. The light lit upon Aki's face when he stood in it, stopping long enough to glance back to wait for her to reach him. When she did, he pointed, for her, for the others, into the bright room.

Walking past him, she was the first to enter the room, Magneto beside her in the next moment. The rest were not far behind. She'd expected to find Charles there. Instead, a little boy sat on an armchair in the room. He couldn't have been older than five or six. Neatly cut and combed brown hair, big blue eyes, and a suit that looked simply adorable on a child so young and small.

The boy sat properly in the chair far too big for him, legs dangling over the edge of the seat, hands clasped together in his lap. He was humming quietly to himself. He was until his eyes lifted and noticed her, noticed all of the others. Immediately he stilled and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked in their direction again.

"Did you know my daddy?"

Sarah cleared her throat and stepped forward when the boy's eyes sought her out, waiting expectantly for a reply. She'd become the spokesperson for everybody apparently.

"No. I'm sorry. Who's your father?"

"Brian Xavier. People have been visiting my mommy all month. She says they're my daddy's friends. Some of them are. Some of them..."

"Xavier?" Sarah knew those bright eyes immediately now. "Are you Charles Xavier?"


	8. Awakening

**Author's Note: **Massive warnings for this chapter. It has very disturbing content so please be aware. There is major non-con and violence, though not graphic, it is clear and may evoke discomfort. Please keep this in mind. Also, no ownership of the song used here. Existed _way_ before I existed. =)

**Chapter Seven**

**Awakening**

_Westchester County, New York..._

"Xavier?" Sarah knew those bright eyes immediately now. "Are you Charles Xavier?"

His eyes grew large and round. "You know me?"

Sarah heard Magneto's sharp intake of breath next to her at this revelation. Once again she had to remind herself, this was a dream, this was Charles's dream. In this moment she suspected they'd stumbled onto a memory kept inside his head. Never had she believed she would come to know her professor on such an intimate level. He was a very private person. Most of the time, he kept to himself. She felt like she was invading his privacy, even though she knew it was none of their doing to be in Professor Xavier's mind like this.

"Um..uh.. I do." She realized it must sound peculiar for a grown-up to say they knew him without some kind of explanation. "I know you because I know your mother."

"Oh, okay." His small hands shifted to rest on his knees.

He looked ridiculously cute in that tailored suit and tie he wore. Hesitation was evident before the small version of Charles risked a question to her.

"Do you know where my mommy is?"

She answered honest. "No."

When his face fell, she quickly added to it. "I think she's just downstairs in the kitchen making food."

The boy's head was shaking fervently. "I don't think so. She's probably sleeping. She sleeps a lot now. Gertrude says mommy drinks too much and it makes her sleep. Sometimes I get sleepy when I drink warm milk before bed. Is it like that?"

She winced. Well, that was something she definitely wasn't going to answer honestly.

"Maybe, Charles. It could be. Who is Gertrude?"

"The housemaid. She's my friend." He answered easily before asking another question of her. "Did any of you know my daddy?"

Sarah glanced at Magneto next to her, hoping he'd be willing to say something. The man looked at a loss for words. No one else appeared to be wanting to say anything either. They were satisfied with how she was doing apparently. How unhelpful.

"No, Charles. Is your daddy a nice man?"

She didn't know why she asked that. It was the only thing she could think to say. She thought she'd made a mistake with her choice in question, because he looked sad, gaze falling to his lap.

"He was a good man, but daddy went away."

"Oh. I'm sure he'll be home soon."

A throat cleared, loudly, to garner her attention, and she saw the demon looking mutant, Azazel, looking toward her intently. When she did nothing but stare, he started to move forward, past the others gathered in the brightly lit room. She became distracted from the movement when the little boy was talking again, his voice thick with confusion.

"He will? Mommy says he's gone away for good. There was an accident. She says he's not coming home. Do you think he will come home?"

Sarah understood her mistake when Azazel cautiously approached the boy and knelt down in front of the chair. "Little Charles, your father is gone. He will not come back. But you will be loved."

How could she not realize what memory this was? This was the professor's memory of losing his father, a not so pleasant memory to be sure. It explained his mention of his mother drinking herself unconscious, of visitors to the house. This was a time of confusion, loneliness, and loss for him.

The small boy seemed to see the shockingly unique appearance of Azazel for the first time. Tentatively, a hand reached out towards the tail swinging back and forth. He retracted it before he could touch it and turned to look at his sleeve shyly. A child who respected boundaries and didn't say a word about someone's strange look. Professor Xavier was astonishingly polite even at such a young age. He was pretty damn smart and intuitive for such a small boy, too. She was in awe of just the kind of good person the professor truly was.

Azazel smiled and his tail moved alongside the chair, near Charles's legs. "Go on, little one. You may touch if you wish."

A soft smile appeared on the child's face. Delicate fingers risked reaching out again, this time until they found purchase on the lengthy red tail hovering in the air. Fascination filled every part that had spoken of grief mere moments earlier.

"Wow. I wish I had a tail." His bright eyes searched over the rest of the man before him. "How did you get your skin like that?"

"I was born like this."

"Wow. Lucky."

Sarah remembered their present situation. "Charles?"

He made a noise that he'd heard her but didn't turn his eyes from the tail in his grasp.

"Charles? Do you think you could help us find someone?"

Emma spoke up then, before the little version of Charles could.

"You're speaking to a memory, nothing more."

Azazel ignored Emma, holding out his hand toward the hand Charles had kept in his lap.

"Come with me, little one. We're going to play a game."

The boy looked delighted at that. "Really?"

A nod from the man knelt before him. It made little Charles ecstatic. Sarah felt a small pang in her stomach from knowing this was not true, Charles had only grief to accompany him in the real past, but also knowing her friend had lost his dad so young. She found herself turning away from the sight of the younger version of the man who'd given her a new home. Her parents weren't the greatest people in existence for her, but they were alive and they loved her. Life just couldn't be fair sometimes.

"Will you be my friend?"

She turned back when she heard the question, watching the sight of a child who had no business being dressed in expensive suits, eager to make a new friend. He was standing beside Azazel now, hand firmly clasped in the other's much larger hand. She fought against the urge to smile at the sight of them, both wearing fancy suits.

"Yes, little Charles, I will be your friend."

"You are not alone, Charles."

Sarah jerked her head to look at Magneto in surprise. It was the first time he'd spoken since encountering this child-sized form of Charles Xavier. She wondered about what he was thinking. Turning back to the boy, she saw he was just as surprised at the words.

"Not alone."

"That's right. You're not alone."

His eyes looked like they were going to burst out of his head at the words. His eyes began to dart around frantically for reasons Sarah didn't understand. He looked down at himself, back up at Magneto, and then around at everyone else.

"Run!"

"Charles?" asked Sarah.

"He's coming!"

"Charles!" Magneto exclaimed, and she understood now this was their Charles come to warn them.

The room they were in darkened and Sarah watched Azazel staring at his hand. She realized the small version of Charles had vanished. The deafening rumble of thunder boomed just outside, and lightning flashed which temporarily lit up the room for them to see.

A scream, the sound of glass breaking elsewhere in the house. Shouting that was growing louder and louder, not to be drowned out by the increasingly loud noise of the thunderstorm. That was something that could not happen if this were really happening. A dream, Charles's dream, and they had to find him.

"Charles!" Raven cried out, and she took off running from the room, much to everyone's surprise.

Sarah was certain they'd run down two flights of stairs after Raven, but when they next came to a stop behind the blonde haired woman, it was to find themselves looking up at another staircase. She took another look at the house she was standing in and saw it wasn't actually the house she'd been living in the last few years. She wasn't the only one to notice. Raven had gone pale and their eyes met by coincidence.

"This is the Xavier manor in England. We would go there in summers, some holidays." Raven shared. Then a shocked look overtook her worried expression. "Charles!"

They were all surprised to find the little five or six-year-old Charles was back, clutching to Azazel's leg, his clothing more casual this time.

"Don't go up there."

Raven's initial surprise and happiness to see the small boy again changed to concern. "Charles?"

"Mother's been drinking again. She gets mad sometimes when she drinks."

"Charles-" Tom began to try but he stopped when the boy kept on with his own talking.

"I don't want to be here. I don't like it here."

"Charles, I'm sorry." Raven told him, looking close to tears.

What was that all about? The others seemed to be wondering like she did, especially Magneto she noted.

The small version didn't seem to hear her. She supposed he didn't know her yet. This wasn't the professor come to warn them again. This was the memory of the little boy. She took a closer look at him. This boy was actually slightly taller, cheeks not so chubby looking. He was an older Charles by a few years at least. She'd failed to notice in the minimal light of the place.

Those damned big blue eyes were peering up the stairs. Sarah was in awe of how someone could bear such compassion and wonder and pureness in their eyes. She knew there had always been a reason she'd chosen to have a life under the guidance of the professor. Now she was learning things about the man she'd never thought she'd know.

"I don't want to be here," the young Charles repeated. He looked about himself and locked eyes with Raven, who he'd possibly deemed as trustworthy. "He doesn't even like my mom. He likes her money."

"It won't always be like this, Charles. You're going to be free of them one day."

Sarah knew she wasn't alone in her questioning of what was between them. What did they know that the rest of them didn't? Was it wrong of her to want to know?

Charles was lifting his chin to peer upwards at Azazel, one he apparently remembered to be his new friend. She couldn't even begin to fathom how that was possible. Because it was within the same night of dreaming? The one potentially remembered, brought a hand down to rest atop the neat head of brown hair, tail curling about the tiny body.

"I hate it here."

"Why, little one?"

Hm, so simply because he was a few years older, the nickname had not been shed. Made sense. She could tell Charles had always been a small boy.

"Because of the man."

"What man?"

"He was my father's friend from work. Now he's with my mom. They got married. Mother says he's my step-father. I have a step-brother now, too." The young Charles looked up at Azazel with fearful and yet knowing eyes. "My step-father... He's a bad man."

Charles had practically whispered the last phrase out to them, though loudly. This time when he disappeared, he faded right before her eyes. It was startling. This dream world felt so off, so wrong, and still felt incredibly real at times.

When Raven took off running up the flight of stairs, Sarah did what everyone else did. She followed. While they rapidly walked after a wandering Raven, who was searching for signs of where to find her brother, whatever age he might be found in, Emma spoke up to the rest of them.

"I can feel the intruder. I can feel his touch, his influence. He's causing this dream to turn dark. He's the one molding the dream into a nightmare."

"It's why we keep seeing his childhood." Sarah heard Tom say. "We're seeing parts of his life that haunt him. I never knew the professor had a less than stellar childhood."

Sarah hadn't known either. Judging by the looks all around, no one really had.

"We need Charles to wake up and wake us up with him. If he can't, if he continues to be disoriented by the intruder, that intruder will escape and we'll be completely defenseless. He can murder us in our sleep and we won't even know it's happening until we're already dead. Mystique, can you tell us anything that might help? Mystique?"

"Oh!"

They came to a sudden stop when Raven did, stopping and then darting into a doorway on her left. They followed and froze. Not exactly by choice. There was a wall, mostly invisible save for the rippling of the power behind it every now and again, between them standing just inside the door, and the memory playing out in the bedroom they'd arrived at.

A few of them threw questioning looks Emma's way, assuming she might know what this was, being the only telepath they had at the moment. She did know. Someone else had figured it out, too.

"That intruder is skillful. He didn't like us interacting with the memories so he's put a stop to it by bringing up a wall between us and them." Sebastian Shaw inputted.

"I suppose by interacting we were able to reach the real Charles and he didn't like that much." Emma agreed.

"Well what can we do?" Magneto demanded, sounding irritated and anxious.

Emma didn't get a chance to answer just then, however, because they found themselves looking at a boy and a girl on the other side of the transparent wall. Charles was maybe twelve, still having a small frame of a body, but his cheekbones were more pronounced, his eyes a bit more defined by age, or perhaps hardship? The girl with him looked a few years younger, with blonde hair, and it took just that to allow Sarah to realize this was a younger version of Raven.

"Charles, I don't want to. Not again. I don't want to. I can't."

"Come along. Come, Raven."

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and then he was maneuvering her to a second door in the room. It was a closet door. He opened it and sat her down just inside. From their angle they could get a pretty good view of the interior. Kneeling before her, the Charles about twelve or so, took both of her hands into his own. Then he began to sing to her, voice even and sure.

_"When a star is born, they possess a gift or two. One of them is this, they have the power to make a wish come true,"_ he paused. "Come on. Sing with me."

She did then, softly raising her voice to sing, the young Charles singing with her. _"When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires will come to you."_

"You worthless piece of shit! Can't you do anything, right? Why can't you be like his son? Why can't you be smart like Charles?"

Audible yelling from down the hallway, drawing nearer. Sarah and a few of the others looked about but they saw nothing. Even still, the shouts continued.

"Dad!"

"I don't want to hear from you!"

The young Raven broke off in her singing but Charles quickly brought her back to it and they continued to sing together.

_"If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme. When you wish upon a star, as dreamers do, fate is kind."_

Sarah and Aki flinched when two figures appeared directly in front of them, but on the other side of the telepathic wall between them. One was a man, possibly 35 or so, the other a boy of about 15. That was if she was estimating correctly on the ages. She was only guessing. Were they the professor's step-father and step-brother?

The two were still arguing. Actually, it was less arguing and more a father yelling the most horrible things at his own flesh and blood. The poor kid just stood there, taking the abuse. Sarah felt so awful watching such a display. Her pity for the kid wasn't to last.

Charles was leaving the closet, closing the door behind him where Raven continued to sit and sing softly to herself. He stood and faced the only other two he was aware of in the room, the only other two that were actually there in this time, this moment long past.

"You leave him alone."

At first his request went ignored, father continuing to berate his son. Then he backhanded his son across the cheek and Charles had had enough.

"Leave him alone, Kurt!"

The man jerked his attention over to him. "You shut your mouth. Cain is the useless one here. You at least will amount to something. My son never will."

"You have no right to hit him. Go away."

The step-father stooped down to do just the opposite, hand fisting in his fallen son's collar, other hand raising up to hit him a second time.

"I said leave him! You're the pathetic piece of shit, Kurt!"

"It's dad to you!"

"You're the useless one!" the young Charles persisted. "I know the darkness that lies in your heart. You don't love my mother. You don't love anyone."

"Shut up!" Kurt screamed.

"All you do is hate. You're a disease!"

His step-father shoved Cain back to the floor and proceeded toward Charles. "Fine. You want to do this again? This time do you think I'll be able to knock some sense into that genius level head of yours?"

"Abusive bastard! My mother-"

"Your mother, is a drunk. Your mother's never going to notice a thing."

The first blow dropped Charles to his knees. The second, tossed him onto the floor. Lifting his head up to glare at his attacker, Charles spat out blood before asking something.

"Do you feel like a man now?"

His step-father hit him, and hit him, and hit him. A part of her was angry Charles didn't fight back. A part of her understood that he couldn't even if he wanted to. Sarah didn't think it was ever going to stop. When it finally did, it was because Kurt seemed bored with the beating. He stalked out of the room, both of his fists bloody, and didn't look back. When he walked out, that was when her eyes fell upon Cain again, and her sympathy for the young man hated by his father died.

Cain was smirking. The teenager was actually smirking at the sight of his step-brother bloodied and beaten on the floor. Then he advanced and she wanted to scream, bouncing back against the wall as if to do something. There was no getting past the raised wall and there was no stopping anything happening anyway. It was a memory. It was an event that had already happened and she couldn't do anything to stop it and it was killing her.

"You might have the brains, and the money, and even the looks. Tonight, Xavier, none of that means nothing."

"Cain, you have a choice."

The teenager rolled his eyes and lashed out a foot, kicking Charles flat onto his back.

"You say that every time. Don't you get tired of saying the same thing over and over, never making a difference?"

"Even if I can't always succeed at making the world a better place, someone has to try."

Another sharp intake of breath was the only indication Magneto had been affected by Charles's words. Wisdom spoken even at such a young age. Words she suspected had hit home to the Brotherhood leader because he had heard them before.

"You should just let me have your sister. Then we wouldn't have to keep doing this."

"Your cruelty will be endured by me, Cain. You-will not-touch her."

She let out a scream before she could stop it from coming out. Cain had thrown a few more kicks in and then begun tearing at Charles's clothes. When the sounds of sexual assault had begun, that was when she'd screamed. She threw a hand over her mouth. This was nothing they could have prevented.

Sarah heard a whimper. She spun to stare behind her at the retreating form of Magneto. He'd backed himself against the wall and slid down to the floor, staring numbly at the memory playing out that they couldn't stop. She knew he was probably thinking very much along the same lines as she was. They'd believed Charles privileged and safe in his childhood. They'd been so horribly wrong.

When Cain finished, he adjusted his clothing, slapped Charles across the face, and walked out. He walked out like Charles was nothing and it made Sarah sick to her stomach. Her dear professor once mistreated so badly.

The teenager barely had left when Raven shoved her way out of the closet. Immediately she went to the bed and tugged free a sheet. She settled the sheet over Charles and lifted him up enough so that his head and shoulders rested in her lap. Her face hit the light just right that Sarah could see fresh tears running down her face over old tear tracks. It was likely she'd been crying the entire duration of the assault on her brother.

Arms wrapped around him, she stroked his hair away from his face. She stayed with him, ignoring the blood and the tears on the both of them, and just laid together. By how motionless Charles was, it was possible he was unconscious. Choking back a sob, Raven began to sing quietly to him.

_"When you wish upon a star. Makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires will come to you."_

To wish upon a star and have your heart's desire come true. She would give anything to have an ability to make wishes come true. These two children had needed a wish made true, and no one had helped them. Righteous anger flooded through her and she whipped around and hit the wall. At least, she would have hit a wall, had Charles Xavier, her Professor Xavier, not been standing there.

She retracted her fist like it was burning. "Professor! Oh, Professor Xavier, I'm so sorry!"

Sarah stepped away when Magneto immediately got in her way and snagged Charles up by his shirt.

"You idiot! You let me think you'd lived some privileged existence. Why didn't you tell me about your past?"

"Oh, my friend, your own past was burden enough."

"I want honesty."

"What do you mean?"

"Is there anything else you've kept hidden from me?"

"Erik..."

"I need you to be honest. Anything else? You know all of me. I should be granted the same, don't you think?"

The professor didn't tear his eyes from Magneto's, and Sarah was admittedly impressed. Magneto was intimidating. Professor Xavier wasn't even the least bit affected. Charles maintained eye contact and shared, despite his rather sizable audience.

"The thunderstorm in this nightmare, is because my mother broke a bottle over my head when I was fourteen, the night of a huge storm. I nearly died. She was an alcoholic, a drunk. I never wanted to admit it because when she was sober, she was the sweetest, kindest person you could ever meet. But I saw it in her head. My father's death destroyed her. She didn't want to live without him, didn't want to see me because I was a reminder of him."

"I never knew about your childhood, Charles. I never knew you suffered so much."

Sarah was astonished when the professor laughed it off. "I'm certain your suffering was much more severe in the camps, and a life alone after. I had Raven, at least. I did have her, I mean."

"You still do, Charles." Raven swore, looking at him like she wanted to hold him just as her younger self had been doing.

A glance in that direction informed Sarah that the memory had dissipated, leaving an empty room in its place.

"All right. The time for confessions is over. We need to wake up." Emma prompted.

The professor wasn't looking at her though. He was still staring at Magneto.

"There is one more thing you must know, then you will know everything."

Raven practically yelled out her next words. "No. No, Charles. You don't have to relive that."

He paid her no mind and Sarah listened for whatever the man she respected above all else was going to tell Magneto, tell them.

"There was a fire..." the professor began, and the room around them spun into a blur of darkness.


	9. Own Worst Enemy

**Chapter Eight**

**Own Worst Enemy**

_Westchester County, New York..._

"There was a fire..."

Raven listened to her brother barely get the words out before her surroundings eroded around her. She soon found herself standing in a brightly lit sitting room instead of the rather sparsely lit bedroom from her own nightmares. They remained in the Xavier summerhouse, in a room with a burning fireplace and two young teenage boys sitting across from one another in separate chairs. One was Charles, and the other was the one she'd forever refused to call her brother. Cain was evil, just as bad as Kurt, if not worse.

No wait, she remembered this night. How could she forget? Glancing in her leader's direction and then Azazel's, both noticing her attention in a somewhat delayed manner, she consciously stepped away from them. Raven moved to stand beside her brother and slipped her hand into his own. He must have felt it but he gave no outward indication. Probably owed that to his desire to concentrate, to keep them all together in this specific memory of his. At least, that was her initial belief. By the way his face kept scrunching up and his nose crinkled like something distasteful was in the air, she reconsidered that perhaps his concentration was on keeping the intruder from joining their little gathering.

"Six months to the day my own mother almost killed me, too drunk to even know she'd done so, was this night." Charles shared.

There was sweat dripping down her brother's face. One of the students she didn't really know except from a distance, capable of minor healing power, was the first to notice.

"Professor X? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Tom. Watch the memory, Erik. It's what you want. My darkest secret."

"Charles, if the brutality of your brother is to continue, I don't want-"

"Erik."

Raven watched Magneto's mouth snap shut, jaw tightening as he turned to look at Charles after quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Erik had been crying. She hadn't seen him do that in a long time. The Brotherhood leader prided himself on strength, endurance, and the power that mutation brought. But she understood. She understood exactly how it felt when someone like Charles Xavier got hurt.

"If I'd had a choice, you never would have seen the last memory. That is something I wouldn't intentionally inflict onto any of you. This memory, this is my sin, not theirs."

"Charles-"

"Charles." Raven interrupted with her own voice and a tug on her brother's hand.

She pulled him slightly to the side, so that her brother's focus could be on the young girl sitting behind the chair the teenage memory of Charles was perched on. If he needed to concentrate on fending off the intruder, it would be best to keep his attention on her. The image of her, young and content simply being near her adoptive brother, was what she knew to be the sole innocent memory he retained of that night, the night of the fire.

Perhaps a tad hypocritical, her own attention roamed over to the young teenagers in the room, where everyone else's focus stayed once the talking started. She couldn't help herself. A part of her wanted to see this night play out now that she was much older and could understand things better.

"This place is always cold," muttered the older of the two.

"This place is heartless, Cain. That's what you feel."

Cain snorted. "What kind of metaphorical crap is that?"

Young Charles sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position in his seat, appearing a bit sleepy. She didn't understand how he could ever sleep in that monster's presence. It tended to help when one was capable of reading another's thoughts, though. He likely knew when Cain was feeling particularly volatile. Besides, even she came to learn that the oldest child living with them, mercifully in summers alone, only risked attacking Charles following his father beating her brother down. Cain might have anger from his own father's spiteful hatred of him, but he was still a coward at heart. He picked on the weak. It was his mistake that he would learn Charles was far from weak.

After a long moment, Charles glanced his step-brother's way.

"When you graduate, I suppose you'll never return?"

"Hell no. I'm never coming back here." Cain answered immediately, then took in what he'd said and how it was said. "Umm..I'm sorry, you know. For leaving you here..with him."

Charles didn't even look at him when he replied back. "But you're glad it's me and not you."

Cain shrugged and returned to staring at the flames licking at the piled logs. "He hates me, prefers you, yet beats you easily whenever you get in his way of hitting me. He's a twisted fuck."

The young Charles, still looking rather sleepy, eyed the older boy partially. "You prey on the weak as well, just like your father. You think because you're his son you have to be like him. You don't and you know it. It's simply easier for you to become what he expects you will."

"And gets me off. Hey I told you I'd rather have your sister, but no, you won't let me near her. Your ass does just fine anyway." Cain laughed a little, continuing to stare at the fire. "You'll be rid of me soon enough. Just behave Xavier."

It was unclear whether he'd heard all or any of Cain's disgusting speech; Charles was just about asleep in his chair.

"I hate this house," murmured Charles.

The older teen looked at him sharply, then relaxed in the next second. "Me too. It's misery."

"You should burn this house down," the fourteen-year-old said with a laugh. "Someone should... I wonder where my mother is tonight."

His eyes closed to mere slits, tiredness overtaking his consciousness. Behind his chair, Raven watched her young self falling asleep right along with her brother. Cain on the other hand, was anything but tired. His eyes were alert, no, wide, but not alert. If anything, she'd say his eyes appeared unfocused and far away.

A moment later and Cain stood up. There was a lingering glance on Charles, and then he was walking over to the fireplace. A swift kick sent a fiery log out of the fireplace. The second kick sent more logs out of the fire and the curtains went up into liquid orange and yellow colors. Then he picked up one of the logs still very much burning, and walked out of the room. His demeanor was calm and alienated, as though what he was doing was the most natural thing in the world.

It was a long time in her past, but Raven remembered this night. She remembered waking to the smell of burnt toast. At least, that's what she'd thought it had been at first.

Sure enough, the memory of her small self was waking up. She took in the sight of her child-aged self awakening with a cough and bleary eyes. The fire was spreading rapidly and there was smoke everywhere. Raven knew from her own memory that the air had felt thin, void almost entirely of oxygen.

Her blonde self turned blue in her panic at the thinness of the air, the difficulty in breathing. She climbed to her feet and crawled into Charles's lap, shaking him and crying for him to wake up, that something was wrong. The teenage boy did wake, and it was to find half the room was already ablaze with fiery danger.

He stood up, lifting Raven up with him even though it was an obvious struggle for the small-framed boy. Fortunately he need only carry her to the doorway when a woman in a velvet robe met them there. The woman glanced at them and away, obvious concern over the smoke billowing through the halls. A quick whisper into the small Raven's ear and she was shifting back to her regular looking form.

Charles handed his sister over to his mother, sternly looking at her to make sure she understood what she was to do.

"Get Raven out. Stay there. I'm going to find Kurt and Cain."

"Your step-father's already outside. He was working in the-"

"Mother."

The woman wrapped her arms tighter around the scared child in her arms. "I know. I've got her. Find your brother and get the both of you outside. Hurry."

She turned on her heel and hurried off toward the exit from the house. Charles wasted no time in running from the room and in the opposite direction as his mother. Though those viewing the memory couldn't see it, they knew he was using his power to locate his brother's mind. His brow was creased in a frown as he did so, and his legs carried him downstairs and to the kitchen. They didn't have to follow him at all. The memory shifted and their surroundings altered without them having to move.

The fire had spread frighteningly quick. It was everywhere. When the young Charles dashed into the kitchen and found his step-brother, it was to find him standing there, staring at the burning log still in his hand. The flames licked against his pale flesh and Charles's frown lifted to become an expression of horror.

"Cain! Put it down. You're burning yourself!"

The older boy dropped the stick immediately and blinked a few times. He looked puzzled and disoriented. He didn't seem to know how he'd gotten where he was and then he was holding his badly burned arm to his side, the pain apparently only reaching his mind now.

"Cain, we have to go!"

One of the kitchen windows busted open under the pressure of the smoke and fire taking over the room. Charles moved forward and grabbed Cain's arm, tugging him toward the way out. He met no resistance until the archway above the door collapsed, fully engulfed in flames. Both boys stumbled to a halt, utterly trapped now by a wall of fire and wood.

Cain coughed and slid against the kitchen wall, far too close to the collapsed exit. He continued to clutch his burned arm to his side, eyes darting around in a desperate bid to find an escape route. Charles looked briefly over the room himself but he knew there was no other way out except for where it had been blocked off. Standing in front of the two particularly large pieces of wood on fire in the doorway, he considered the sight. If they could lift at least one piece of wood they would be able to get out. There was no possibility for him to move it; he was too small. Cain might be capable of such a feat, but with one arm virtually useless, it was impossible for him to accomplish the task either.

He turned to his step-brother. "We can't get out. We're trapped."

All he got was some cursing from his brother under his breath. Then his brother's gaze flickered up to him.

"What did you do to me?"

Young Charles looked genuinely shocked. "What?"

Before Cain could repeat the question there was a yell from nearby. "Charles! Charles!"

Cain perked up, climbing to his feet and turning toward the blocked doorway. "Father?!"

"Cain! Is Charles with you?"

Darkness shuttered over his expression immediately. Watching on, Raven knew the unmistakably anger he felt that his father liked his step-brother more. Charles Xavier, the preferred son because he was smart, kind, and full of potential. When the older boy shifted toward the unsuspecting Charles, she actually shuddered. She knew he didn't get to hurt her brother that night, but even so, she could see the raw fury and hatred covering his face.

Kurt was there then, on the other side of the flames, peering into the doorway. He was hunched over, sweat running down his face. Then his eyes searched the circumstance before him and he acted. Stooping, he was visibly using all of his strength to raise one of the logs. He managed to shove it aside and then he stepped through. Taking Charles's hand, his gaze went to his biological son.

"Come on, Cain."

Then he was making his way out of the kitchen, moving carefully but quickly. He kept Charles held close to his side; he barely glanced back once to ensure Cain was following. The fire was everywhere. It was obvious this house would be consumed by the flames. Raven knew that in time, the summerhouse would be rebuilt. She and Charles would hardly ever return to this place. It was filled with bad memories. No wonder it was the focal point of Charles's nightmares tonight, intruder meddling or not.

The three of them made it out of the house and across the yard. They made it a safe distance away and then all of them dropped to the grass, coughing out ashen smoke. Kurt laid himself across the ground, on his back, and both Cain and Charles saw the bloodied up stomach for the first time. His breathing was labored and the two teenagers understood the wound was serious.

"Charles," he managed to get out, voice low and exhausted.

Cain turned away in disgust, putting some distance between him and the father who didn't love him. He glanced toward his step-mother and step-sister, and then kept his ground to stare at Charles. His stare was not kind, accusing really.

"Charles." Kurt tried again.

The teenage Charles got to his knees beside his step-father. "Hold on. The police are here with the fire fighters. Help is coming."

"Charles, there's something I need to tell you. Something you need to know." His speech was a downright struggle for him.

"It's okay. Talk later." He lifted his gaze up and over to his mother and sister. "Mother! Mother get help! Kurt's hurt!"

She did. She ran for the nearest police car with Raven scooped up in her arms. Charles watched a policeman wrap a blanket over his sister's shoulders while another officer spoke with his mother. Help would be coming.

Kurt's ragged voice brought his attention back to the awful wound in his step-father's gut and then his gaze roved over the man's face.

"I need to say this, Charles."

Inevitably his gaze returned to his mother and sister. His mother was heading across the yard now, police officer and medical officer walking alongside her.

"Your father."

His gaze snapped back down to Kurt's face.

"I let him die."

"What are you talking about? Kurt?"

He dragged himself partially upright, propping his upper body up by his elbows. "The accident at work. I could have saved Brian. I chose not to. I let him die."

Horror would be too gentle of a word for the expression overtaking Charles's face at this revelation. He gasped out the only question on his mind.

"Why?"

Kurt didn't answer at first, instead averting his eyes and forcing Charles to repeat himself.

"Why? To marry my mother? I know you only married her for her money but that came after my dad died. Tell me why."

Step-father and step-son's eyes met. "We both suspected what you were. The explosion at work... We researched people with genetic mutation... He didn't want to use you for the tests but I was more than willing. You have so much potential."

His step-father reached for him and Charles flinched away. "You let my dad die. You drove my mother to drink more than she already did. You did that on purpose so she wouldn't know what you did to me! To Cain!"

"I'm so sorry, Charles."

Tears welled up in young Charles's eyes. Anger shone along with the obvious sorrow overtaking his composure. Raven knew why he hadn't seen this truth before. Charles was not yet masterful or always mindful of his ability. He hadn't known how to thoroughly scan a mind, rarely tried it even since it was too much an invasion of privacy.

"You hurt Cain and made him into a monster who likes to hurt people. He wanted to hurt my sister! When you killed my father you let both my parents die because my mother will never be the same! She'll never love me like she should!"

"I'm sorry," was all Kurt repeated weakly.

He stared into his step-father's eyes. "Stop breathing."

It was like his breath caught in his throat. Shock and fear came into his eyes as he fell back to the ground and stared up at his step-son. Strangled, choking sounds emerged from his throat. Charles backed away as the medical officer arrived and immediately tried to straighten Kurt out on his back to deduce what was wrong. He stared at his step-father flailing helplessly on the ground until the struggling stopped. Then he continued to watch as the medical aid failed to resuscitate him.

The first time Charles fully realized what his powers allowed him to do to other people. There had been no regret or grief in his eyes. He merely watched Kurt die, calmly.

"He did it!" Cain was screaming in the background, though Charles hardly took notice. "He made me do it! He made me start the fire! He used his mind. He made me do it!"

The blathering continued even as he was dragged away by two officers who'd come to see what all the crazed screaming was about. Cain Marko was locked away that night in an institution for the mentally insane, indefinitely.

Charles only tore his eyes away from his dead step-father when he heard his mother crying over Kurt's body. They'd been left alone now, to mourn apparently. He came to stand near his mother's shoulder.

"He was bad. Mean. You didn't love him. I saw." He tapped the side of his head.

The slap came as a shock, to all of them watching this memory play out, and to young Charles himself.

"Kurt was all I had left!"

The recipient of the slap looked at the woman who was his mother and neglector in fear, confusion, and a deep sadness.

"What about me? What about Raven?"

"You're better off far from me."

"You love me. I can see it. Why won't you show it?"

She raised her had to slap him again but forced herself to stop in mid-motion. What she settled for didn't hurt any less.

"Freak!" she hissed at him.

She stood up and walked away, back towards the police cars and fire trucks. She left Charles looking absolutely desolated and alone, save for Raven, who was staring in his direction with great worry. She stood up from where she'd been sat in the police car and that was when the memory faded entirely. Something different happened this time around.

Pure white light shone blindingly in Raven's eyes and she burst awake, sudden and surprised. Looking around, she found herself back in the room with Hank and the others, very blue, and very much present. She must have sleep-walked down to this room when the dream had been in play. Quite possibly it had been Charles's doing. To keep her away from him? She paused long enough to shift to blonde, shout Charles's name out loud, and then she took off running for the staircase. She felt the irresistible need to get to her brother.

She only made it to the top of the stairs, the other newly awakened mutants close behind her, when she found her brother already waiting for her.

"Charles!"

Her brother turned toward her, slow, stiff. Then she saw the scar. A scar that went from the top of his right brow, over the bridge of his nose, and across his left cheekbone to the jawline. That in itself hadn't been the alarm for her. It was when he looked at her with cold eyes and zero recognition that she knew something was terribly wrong with her brother.

The excitement to see him morphed into confused concern. "Charles?"

"A friend of Charles is an enemy of mine." Charles said to her.

She stared at him, then heard Sarah on her left side speak. "If you're not Charles than who are you?"

"Do you think he's the intruder?" Alex wondered, looking at the man slowly regarding each and every one of them.

It was Charles in every way except for the large scar and his eyes. His eyes were still that startling blue but they somehow seemed less so because they were cold, vacant-looking. His clothing wasn't her brother's usual dressed up choice either. He was wearing all black. He had on black boots, black pants, a black vest over a black shirt, and a black collared coat that went to his knees. Nothing she would ever see her brother wearing.

"Mutants. All of you. What is this place?"

Raven frowned. "How can you not know?"

Aki raised himself from the floor, using his ability to manipulate gravity to float upward, and then he flew past the man who could not be Charles, and down the hall. The man merely watched him go and then returned his attention to the seven of them remaining.

"I've come for the owner of this house, Charles Xavier. You will stay out of my way or die. Really, I do hope you get in my way."

"We're not going to let you touch him!" Tom shouted.

Alex and Sean were muttering their agreement with his proclamation. Nobody was going to lay a finger on their professor and Raven found it heart-warming. It made her feel a tad homesick, too. She used to be one of them. She forced the feeling away. Something much bigger than her own feelings was going on here.

"If you're not Charles, who are you?" Hank asked. "A shape-shifter?"

"I am from the future," the man divulged.

Raven all but gasped. That time-traveling girl was at it again, messing with time. Wait, a telepath from the future and Charles's recent behavior, leading to him at one point calling himself, X. This man must have been the intruder manipulating her brother's mind. She said as much out loud, so everyone with her could understand what she did. Her realization brought a slight smirk to the other man's face and he took it upon himself to make an introduction.

"My name is X."


End file.
